Les roues sur l'autobus disparaissent rondes et rondes.....

I despise public transport with a passion. An absolute Passion, the theroy of it is, of course, genius. To have a system where one can go almost anywhere simply by jumping onto a bus is marevllous.

However, to have busses of the same number, which should, in theroy be going in the same direction, be destined to alternate routes is simply beyond me!!

lunchtime saw me furiously racing to catch the 38 home as it had come to my attention that I had forgotton one or two little accessories I would need for tonights booze up. I hopped onto the 38, sat down and began to relax, I had timed the whole journey to perfection. 20 mins to get in, 20 mins to get out, and 20 mins back to work.....

A sharp turn to the left, the right, and altogether an entirley different direction to mi casa. I halted the driver to enquire as to where exactly where we heading, he respponded:

"this is the 38 to paisley, not the 38 to Shawlands"

with that, I stormed off the bus. Absolutley livid. Heels and all, I flew like like a bat out of hell, searching desperatley for the familiar route home.

Reaching the stop, I indulged in a little nicotine therapy. And there were people STARING. Right at me, unable to take their judging little eyes off me. Their gaze burning into my cigarette. What did they hope to achieve by doing this? That the force of their gaze would set my fag alight and i'd throw it into the ground in a panic, decide that it must have been an act of God and swear never to sway to the dark side again? Get your act together people. Some of us do it by choice. And if you dont like it, well, its not you lungs im polluting is it? Well, not polluting them anymore than the buses, cars and taxis that wait on you hand and foot.

Improving Public Transport? Thank you Mr Blair. Thank You very much. What a stroke of pure genius and creativity. Have the same buses going in different directions. Well, I could never have thought of it myself thats for sure. Most definatley a remarkable achievement. I'll remember this moment when it comes to the election shall I? Oh and one more thing, your 'improved public transport' made me f****** late for work!!!

I apologise, but I really needed a rant. And with that, I declare my "dormant" Blog resurected!

Where have the months gone?

That is indeed the question.....

Let me begin by telling you, that on the Chip Shop night out, Raymond kissed me.....

this resulted in much bitching from the workmates, and tears from his girlfriend when he told her it was over.

He asked me out, and we were together for 2 and a half months. short I know, but he told me he was happy, he didn't want to be with anyone else, and I fell in love with the boy.

I didn't want to tell him, I shouldn't have, he had just broken up with Nadia, he needed time....... but I think he caught on, realised that I was in too deep, and he broke up with me.

I don't like to use the word, but I was pretty much devastated. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, the only thing I knew how to do was drink, and drink I did. Turned up to work still drunk, and bursting into tears, I just couldn't believe that I had lost him.....

Enough of the boy, and more of William. William I met on rebound one night, couple of weeks after Ray. We started seeing each other, I broke up with him as it was "too soon", he text me, we got back together, and for the past 2 months I have been having the BEST sex ever in the history of great sex!! Last night was on the kitchen table.......

and yes I will be doing that again.

In addition, I've lost LOADS of weight too, which makes it hard not to be single these days....

William is great, except......I just don't know if i'll ever love him, how sad is that? And last night, he told me that he thinks hes falling in lurve....

aaaaahhhhhh! I hate this work crap, oh, golden boy got sacked, so im now doing his job and mine for the same salary, so busy! and Gail had the cheek to say to me "you look so stressed these days".....

ok, WILL be updating, I just dissappeard with Raymond, who, if I find out he got back with Nadia, will have his balls ripped off with my bare hands.

Enjoy that image

Mr R. Without hesitration I can declare, that even though he is almost a decade my elder, I still can't stop looking at him.

He is the oldest crush i've had, and quite often, when his glance sweeps into my direction, i'm reduced to something of a giddy schoolgirl, with my stomach all tied up in knots.

Worse still, is when Mr R has a task for me to do. I mask my joy with a face of sincerity and a serious get-to-business air, but even still, I can't quell the impulse to spread a huge grin dopily across flushed cheeks.

Sitting at my desk, hoping to execute an unseen grope with my eyes, I have to stop myself, and remember that he is "seeing" someone - allegedly. Nothing is certain with regards to this boy apparently, but he has been lookin sad of late, and perhaps it's over with the unknown her, and perhaps, mabey, he could glance back

Hope does drive you to such ridiculous thoughts, no?

bulles bruyantes

I sit there. Bored at my desk, not a sound from either Mr T or McCaig, the other two who occupy the slab.

I pull out my water bottle, nicley refilled, and squeeze the liquid rather loudly into the newly aquired plastic cup fresh from the vending machine.

Mr T looks over at me once again as I do this, each time the look of curious amusement and bewilderment growing ever evident.

I can't help but giggle, and declare loudly "why do you always stare when I do that?!"

He smiles back and replies "but surley you are used to men staring at you?"

McCaig catches on to the first sign of activity in the office, and watches before laughing hystirically and noting

"Mr T, you have drool on your face!"

taquinez

Of late I have uncovered, that my stubborn optimistic view that excessive working hours can work with, rather than collide with, my social life has been somewhat diminished.

The strain of two jobs and the subsequent exhaustion has depressed my social life to an unprecedented low, diluted my self confidence to a whisper, and left me feeling unwanted and not so different from a Bridget Jones inspired Spinster.

Moving on. Last night, putting in my hours of slave labour at job 2, I recieved an exciteable text message from Raymo, who declared that he would be arriving to pay me a visit and to release me from my chronic state of boredom.

He arrived, was whisked swiftly into the back, and we indulged in deep conversation. Having been seperated on the working front for quite a time, most likley due to our astounding ability to talk for 8 hours rather than work, there was lots to catch up on.

The situation with his girlfriend is thus: He will be staying with her, for the sake of keeping her happy, however, he will be indulging in little hotties outside the relationship, unbeknown to said girlfriend, very much in the style he did that weekend.

At during the dregs of the shift, he decided he would be talking me home instead of my Boss. In the car, at the bottom of my street, we sat and talked for an hour or so. He inquired as to whether or not I had missed him, I replied an enthusiastic yes, and slowly but surley, as is most often the case with regards to Rainbow and I, we began our unvoiced conversation, about the possibility of 'us'.

He refered to me as a 'she', someone he knows, would like to fuck, possibly reguarly?

Quite unlike myself, I did not dismiss his slight comments about fucking me, I played along, wanting him to know that I wanted to fuck him too.

This continued, we hugged for the first time, he put his arm around me and........


Nothing. The boy was a tease in the utmost sense of the word. And I left his car, aware that we both were anticipating our shift together on Saturday with mute anticipation of what...I don't know, but the tension is clear, and there is an presence aknowledgeable when we are together, so much so that by the look on his face, the Boss is wise to that which has not yet been committed.

And so the question remains: Should I?

no development with the boy Stephen. This relationship lacks communication. I now declare that we should be divorced, and I shall have custody of the right to say "I didn't like him anyway". You see that's just the thing.......... whenever I genuinley like someone as more than a quick fuck, it dissolves.

Now to the rehersals. Andrew, for those who don't know, is quite the budding director. He has struggled this far to set up his own theatre company, but having triumphantly succeded in establishing some sort of beginning, the rehersals for 'The Show' are now underway.

However, I desperatley seek the approval of one MPQ.................... should I?

garçon d'or

Having been resident in the office for three weeks now, and having all the prescribed duties under my job description mastered as a skillful art, I was ecstatic and excited to discover in my calender, that this approaching afternoon, I would be pulled from the vicious circle of filing, answering phones and other such nonesense, and would be accompanying 'pink tie' with some project.

As the 'new girl', i had bowed my head once before, and had said nothing as one of the junior boys was taken out of the office to accompany a certain madame in sacking a workforce (what fun!)

Moving on. The content of aforementioned project was unknown to me, and to some extent I was callous in my curiosity. All that mattered was, that for one afternoon, I would be journeying off into the unknown of liquidation and accountancy, and may quite possible return having learned something. Which of course was why I took this job. Promotion by Knowledge and ability. I was giddy with 'kiss-ass' syndrome.

And so, I embarked on the mornings work. Having nothing to do, i sought out the unwanted tasks, and worked through them furiously. I was quite enjoying the work, when pink tie approached my domain...........

Only to inform me that the aforementioned project had been 'taken off ' me

and given to golden boy

I was ablaze with rage. Seeking out work to prove that you are the best you can be and that you are fully capable of juggling various tasks without complaint are apparently qualities one does not look for in staff nowadays. Instead, I present to you, Golden Boy.

A boy, who is to be caught frequently in the file store, (self confessed skiving you understand) who takes forever to do his set tasks, who you can always beat to answering the telephone, and who quite frankly, fails to have educational ability as one his strong points (for the fairly lovely dear that he is)

And so, this afternoon, I will be sat at my desk, gazing across the miles at what should have been my moment.

And plotting an elaborate revenge.

Enough, one feels, of the tedious chatter of work. Onwards and upwards.

The matter of the boy Stephen has failed to resolve. Recently, my ability to 'hump and dump' has proved inadequate. So much so, that I began to develop a likeness for the boy. My drunken approach to discuss the matter with him proved disasterous, and for once perhaps, I feel it would have been best to shut my mouth.

I did see him however a few days later at the scene of the crime. I averted my eyes with complete embaressment as he tried to greet me. As the evening wore on, the akward streak faded and a few words were uttered between us. On his way out, he cuddled me goodbye.

And we haven't spoken since.

Also. The matter of the boy Raymo. As I am still resident in the shop until Christmas, the oppurtunity for Raymo and I to work together often presents itself. I enjoy the work with Raymo, we more than likley will spend our workin hours discussing sex or the lack of it, fantasies, weekend plans, his dissatisfaction with life with his girlfriend, and other such things that we feel we can trust each other with.

Inevitibly, we have grown toward each other. We now are so comfortable as to meet up and talk outside the spectrum of work. On one such occation, Fireworks night, we decided together, that as everyone else was too fuckin lazy and boring to descend into the night for fun and games after twelve, we would venture out ourselves and set off a few fireworks.

After our moments of playing with fire, he turned to me and asked to go for a drive. I agreed.

We drove to his old school, football pitches, to his girlfriends house, to his friends house, to my old school, everywhere we could think of.

At around 3, we ventured from the car into a park. Being November the night was of course particuarly chilly, and as he made his way around me, and slid his hands up and down my arms from behind.

He: "so what do you want to do now?"

Me: "whatever you want, I don't really mind"

He: "don't say stuff like that to me"

He: "have you ever had sex in a car?"

I knew what he wanted. And I knew I wanted it too. Something about this boy compells me to fantasise about riding him, hard. We want the same things: easy relationship, no marrige, threesome with 2 girls 1 guy, handcuffs..........

I pulled away and I couldn't. For all my futile attempts to be a bitch, I couldn't shake the thought of his girlfriend.

We got back in the car and he drove me home. But he never knew how much I wanted him, and still do.

Last night while in my ex's house dealing with my best friend (and baby) crisis, he called.

The girlfriend read his texts from moi, knew the end may well be near, he doesn't know what to do. He loves her, she loves him. They've both embraced infidelity, and yet are still together. I gave him my advice, but it is his choice to make.

But perhaps one day, i'll get to ride him

ridicule!

Is it not? The length of my absence and the sparse information contained in the updates?

To be fair, it is difficult, when starting a new job, to continue blogging activities whilst paralysed with the fear that any activity conducted on the internet is subject to speculation at one time, and therefore the blog may become subject to inquiry.

So. Work.

The new job is working out. Although it would not be a Chronic mistake to attempt to make the work more interesting, the people, prospects and alcoholic benifits do more than enough to ease that little aformentioned glitch.

To the business of Halloween.

A sucess, of that there is no doubt. In typical fashion, there was no preperation for the costume. On Monday the 31st I travelled my was around Glasgow.............

And emerged that night as a (half-clad) firelady.

Adorned in a P.V.C Childrens Fireman's Jacket (how blastphemous), black skirt, faun boots, hat, and a red feather boa (just for effect), we, the party, headed out to town.

The costume positivley oozing with sex turned out to do more good than bad. Although i put up with my fair share of O.D.B's that night, i was also on the recieving end of compliments, secretly flattering leers, and a barrage of free drinks which in no time at all dragged me down to such a pitiful state of drunkeness even i was impressed.

Back to the party. A colorful blur of faces, dubious looking concoctions, other such lovelies, some Californian who thought I was hitting on him, and the boy who continually insisted on feeling my tits.

Crashing on the soafa at some un-godly hour, i was well and truly ready for bed. The boy stephen had other ideas.....

he slid over, covers and all, and began the tiresome game of stroking the hand seductivley under the covers. this he allowed to continue for some time, enough time at least to ensure that the other members of the party had slid out of conciousness. It was driving me insane with frustration, our last little game of this had resulted in all-groping-no-action.

I was a woman on the edge.

Finally tearing me from the sofa and onto the floor, we kissed like crazy, made our way with renewed desperation to the kitchen.

And he fucked me.

after three months in a dire state of celibicy, we made our mark on the kitchen.

The counters, the floor.........the floor all over again.

Caught in the act by some midnight wanderer looking for a drink we were, even so we continued through what remained of the night and into athe morning, enjoying about an hour's
restful sleep before the party awoke, wondered about our whereabouts with suspicious amusement, and uncovered the truth..

through the riddicule and unnecessary digs I smiled. I had been laid. Good and proper. In my Fireman costume, on the floor, in the kitchen, of their house...........

And it wasn't the first time i had left my mark on their territory