Of Drama, Conventions and Splitting Headaches

Before I say anything else, am I the only person not watching the rugby or something?

I will get the drama out of the way now, since that is probably what has given me this bloody headache. It is not even my drama, but it seems that sleeping with me makes people assume that they are entitled to free emotional support and comfort.

Okay, they may have a point, but it still annoys me. Callous I know but I have my own worries to deal with.

Sweetie is not completely happy with her home life. I do not want to go into too much detail in case she ever finds this, but basically something dramatic happened. This then meant that I had to provide comfort and support, which I do not have a real problem with.

What was a problem was thinking, throughout this conversation that she was going to ask to move in with me. Let me explain a little, I have lived with quite a few people. It has never worked out well. I am not comfortable with people prying into my life that much. I do not like sharing my space, and at the moment it really is my space. Fortunately she did not ask, and she is still coming over tomorrow to cheer herself up.

As to the convention in the title, I am off to play with an anime convention up in London before Sweetie gets here tomorrow. I was not given much choice in this matter, though I managed to talk my way out of a uniform, and it will at least be nice to get out of the house on someone else's cash for once.

Enjoy the rugby kiddies, and spare a thought for those of us who cannot go out to enjoy it due to splitting headaches keeping us in bed.

Everyone Has Problems

So we can quite happily say that everyone has problems, either their own fault other people's, and a multitude of them. At the moment most of mine are fairly basic, and are ones I am trying to fix. There is the fact that I am currently ill, which is improving anyway. There is the fact that I hate my job and do not get paid nearly enough, but I have a lot of application forms and CVs floating around out there to apply to new ones.

Most of the others are not as easily solved. Baby is currently slightly ill, and so screams even more than usual. This is a little annoying to say the least. Very little sleep because of that, although at least I can talk to people while I am waiting for the little brat to actually get to sleep. So thanks to people who talk back to me, you are helping to keep my sanity intact.

Next problem is Stalker again. I actually had to speak with her today, on the phone, for about half an hour. This was after five phone calls which my sister answered and simply hung up on, before she finally got fed up and brought the phone to me. I told Stalker in no uncertain terms to stop phoning before I had to call the police. Her reply was that if I did not speak to her then she would be turning up on my doorstep.

If it was my own place I was living in, on my own, I would not mind this. Unfortunately she is not mentally stable, quite obviously, and I do not feel comfortable with her being within fifty miles of my nephew. So I spoke to her. Or rather I listened while she unloaded all of her little insecurities, whines, confessions of undying love and so on at me. After listening to her rather poor attempts at emotional blackmail for a half-hour, I finally gave up and simply hung up the phone.

Another is that I have decided I am stunningly bad at relationships, due to being an uncontrollable flirt. I honestly cannot help it. If I find someone attractive, for whatever reason, I flirt with them. I will not flirt with anyone I do not like, so at least there are limits, but other than that I can and will flirt with absolutely everyone. This causes a mixture of things, firstly serious insecurity for anyone I happen to try and have an actual relationship with. Secondly it can really cause people the wrong idea if all I am interested in is flirting, though I do not believe that has ever actually ended up as a problem. Thirdly I have had a lot of trouble with friends develop because of it, until they get to know me. Once people know me I can get away with anything. Before people realise that I am actually quite harmless, problems can happen.

And last is my problem with being judged. I often say that I do not care about being judged. That is not quite true. I refuse to feel bad when people judge me in some way, but what I have discovered, or realised, does happen is that I will deliberately go out of my way to offend people who judge me in some way. If they tell me that something I could do is wrong I will set out actively to do it. It does not matter what it is, how dangerous it might be, how much I may dislike the idea, I will almost always try to spoil people's opinions of me even more than they were beforehand.

I suppose there is an advantage though. I really can get away with almost anything once people know me. It seems that friends just accept anything I say, people who would snarl at anyone who so much as winked at their girlfriend do not object when I start spanking them in the middle of the pub, nor do they object when it is done to them. I have no idea what I would have to do to actually offend any of the people who know me well.

Writing, Talking and Kinks

First of all someone has suggested I can not write a clean story. I have decided to take this as a challenge, and have started putting up some of my old work and some of my new writings on another blog. I have not decided whether I will do this on a weekly basis, monthly, or just at random, but I have a large stockpile of stories to put up there and I am still writing more.

Recent conversations have made me think about the power words can have over people, not all people but some. For example I have discovered that Sweetie can be reduced to near-incoherent moans through application of the right words over the phone, and can be aroused simply by the right text message.

Apparently the best time to do this is not when she is on lunch break from work. I may pay for that this weekend.

This is only a moderate form of the effect that words can have. It used to be thought that women were much more affected by writing, whereas men preferred visual imagery. This has turned out to be more culturally induced than anything else. In fact both men and women can be equally affected by visual or mental stimulation, and the extremes vary between finding it completely uninteresting, to being almost obscenely affected.

From what I have discovered though most women like at least some form of dirty talking, whether its having someone whisper in their ear 'I want to fuck you', or sweet, romantic nothings.

Yes I can do romantic. I just do not do it often.

I apologise for the amount of rambling. I feel a little drunk, I think its this flu.

Rejoining the Literati

Between blogging again and having had the last few days off work, and a few e-mails I have received I have ended up writing again. I have even sent off a few entries to various writing competitions, though I do not know if I stand any chance of winning them or not. Unfortunately I am hitting my normal problem with any stories I try to do over a certain length, and hitting a block.

But I have discovered a new trick!

What I can do is get as far as I can in a story, then set up a picture that represents that scene to me. Suddenly I seem to be able to write again.

This did mean I had to set up a Scrabble board this morning, with a couple of wine glasses, an empty bottle of wine, and an ex's underwear. You can probably imagine what sort of story that was, but there are others I have been writing as well, more innocent ones.

Anyway Sweetie is coming over this Sunday, and staying until Monday, so I probably will not be posting from Sunday evening until Monday's, then I will spill whichever details I choose to.

I will probably be posting again later today, due mainly to boredom. I need things to do again.

So How Did I End Up Rampant?

This is not an attempt at self-justification, I do not count any of these as reasons, or excuses, simply things that have led me to be the way I am. To be honest I do not even see any reason that I should justify myself, I do not feel I am doing anything wrong. Anyway moving on...

So this little story accounts the tragedy that was my marriage. Obviously it was my first marriage, and I do not know whether I am divorced now or not. That is another story which I have mentioned before.

I met the Ex-Wife while she was in England on a study exchange program from America, going to a University in London. We got together, and she lost her virginity to me shortly after I saved her life. That may take some explaining. The place she was living was a rented room in a house. The owners of the house at one point went on holiday, and their son decided to break into their house. I happened to be visiting at the time so when he came down with a carving knife to chase her out of the house, since it was 'his house' according to his drug-addled brain I managed to get in the way and take it away from him.

While I spent about ten minutes talking him down, keeping him pinned, she packed her stuff and loaded it into my car. After that she moved in.

Everything was fine for about nine months after that, and at Christmas I proposed. Three months later she had to go back to America for a year in order to finish her course, and we agreed that the wedding would be after she had finished her course, and that we would consider ourselves free agents until then. Yes, I know that is quite obviously a stupid idea, but at the time I did not realise.

During that year there were all sorts of indications that perhaps marriage was not for me, but my family and friends constantly told me how happy they were for me. Admittedly they did not know that during that year I paid my rent at university by being essentially a house-pet for the five student nurses my accomodation was shared with. Nor the other events that happened. The last indication I really should have picked up on was that on the flight over to America for my wedding, I ended up having sex with another passenger.

Unfortunately by this point everything had gathered a large momentum, and despite expressing a few doubts I could not get things post-poned, let alone cancelled, without just saying no. I did speak to her father about this, as I was staying with them, but he made it quite clear that I was going to marry his daughter. Or get shot. He even showed me the gun as he explained. You can imagine the sort of impression that had on me.

After the marriage, and a short honeymoon, we returned back to England. Since I was still a student and she was unemployed my parents had converted part of the house into a flat for the two of us. The idea was that she would be looking for a job, while I continued my studies.

Six months later I left University, in order to try and find a job since she had supposedly had no luck. She had also revealed that she was somewhat abusive, and I still have some scars from times when I would come home, see her on the computer, and suggest that maybe she should do the cooking for once, or maybe tidy up a little, or make a little more effort to look for a job.

Two months later I kicked her out after finding that about 200 application forms I had picked up for her over the last eight months had not been filled in, but had in fact been hidden under the bed. I found out a few weeks later that she had also been cheating on me, with at least two different people.

A little after that I found out that I owed £20 000 on credit cards that she had applied for in my name. I still do not really know what she spent the money on, though I did find some receipts that at least some of it was spent on her having very expensive meals out with another person.

I went a little loopy for a while after that. Went somewhat goth.

What Would You Do for Money?

This post by chitty of the very good Riding The Slipstream is the inspiration for this post. Basically the actual list was something that was being discussed around a pub table a few months ago, and I was the only one who was actually honest about realistic prices, but there you go. Of course these are all circumstantial, depending on all sorts of things, including the person involved. Travel expenses are extra, obviously, and prices can and would vary hugely. This is just what came out of that pub discussion.

• Erotic writing: £1 (per 250 words)
• Kiss: £2.50 (price of a pint or shot)
• Dirty talking: £5 (per thirty minutes I guess, plus price of call, variable)
• 'Making out': £5 (again, per thirty minutes or so, though I don't plan to use a stopwatch)
  
• Manual sex: £10 (for a woman, probably double for a male)
• Plain escort: £20 (so long as I'm not paying expenses)
• Oral sex: £20 (for women, no idea for a male, I'd have to decide at the time)
• Cook for a meal: £25 (plus ingredients of course)
  
• Counselling: £30 (per hour most likely)
• Massage: £40 (that's for a full, proper massage)
• 'Modelling': £50
  
• Penetrative sex: £50 (again, women only, male would have to be decided at the time)
• 'Deflowering': £100 (simply because paying for that seems so strange, so whoever's doing it probably comes with problems)
  
• Fight: £100 (depending on situation, obviously)
• Organise and run a cocktail party: £200 (plus costs)
• Butlering/waitering/similar: £250 (per day, but that includes dinner jacket rental)
  
• Stripping: £500 (I'm crap at it, and find dancing in public hideously embarssing, just walking around naked at a party or something would be infinitely easier, so cheaper for fewer people, or if I'm not expected to dance)
• Duel: £5 000 (more if actually to the death, and dependent on weapon)

Well, I think that covers everything that I can think of at the moment. Maybe I should get business cards printed up.

Though I will point out that this is not, nor is it meant to appear to be in any way, my profession. I doubt I could make enough money off it if it was. Its just an estimate, in the same sort of feel as the 'what would you do for £1 000 000?' question.