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February 23, 2006
Prossie -Smart
I'm a real bugger at being faithful, i'm like a butterfly/insect sucking the nectar from one flower before getting bored and flying on to new pastures.
It's the same with Sunday Lunches......
Though i 'go my own way' in my life, i am a traditionalist where Sunday Lunch is concerned.
There isn't an establishment that has not taken my order in and around Brighton in the last few years...but no matter how tasty, and no matter how good the service...i'm on to the next eaterie, trying to find the ULTIMATE in epicurean delights....in fact, a bit like men and prostitutes.
A few weeks ago, impulse, and the fact that the 'A' board announced 'Traditional Sunday Roast-- 7.95' I ventured to sample new delights. 'That'll do for me pal' i thought.
My waiter Hayden had even featured in my Body Worship book while the other Aussie scamp took my drubbing of his Cricket team in good jest.
As usual, by the end of my repast, i had sullied my Pashmina with gravy (i order a soda water as a matter of course now).
The bill arrived. Call me old fashioned (though not to my face as i take fashion very seriously) but to me £7.95 means £7.95.
Somehow the bill had crept up to £12
'WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?'i enquired of my Aussie mate.
There was bloomin' VAT, service charge, all sorts of shite....and right at the end of the pesky add ons was: STREET SMART...HELPING THE HOMELESS.
'WHAT'S BLOODY STREET SMART?'
Hayden replied 'Oh it's some initiative that the actor Stepen Fry has started up with restaurants across the country.
It's in association with the Argus (local yokel newspaper)'
He handed me the little card that had all the blurb written on it.
'STREETSMART FUNDRAISES FOR THE HOMELESS BY ADDING A VOUNTARY £1 TO YOUR BILL....'
I started to get jolly batey.
'But it's NOT voluntary...you've just bloody took it!!!!' i complained.
'You don't HAVE TO give it' he squirmed.
'Its tossing emotional blackmail...if that twat Stepehen Fry is so concerned about the homeless, why doesn't HE just foot the bill' i said.
Before you start thinking: 'Oh dear, Letitcia isn't a very nice person is she?' allow me to share a tale.
When i arrived in Brighton after a 10 year 'lost weekend' in Australasia.......i was appalled to see homeless souls in every other doorway in what seemed to be a decrepid and decaying seaside hamlet.
There were so many that i had a dedicated street person who i chose to give my limited money to....hell...i didn't even have a job myself!!!
His pitch was outside the Body Shop, and i would bestow 'noblesse oblige' whenever i had a bag full of coins.
I heard the sob story in technicolour, giving him advise and encouragement (gee i wish someone could have done the same for me) when i felt it was needed.
Suddenly he disappeared.
Some months later, there he was again looking suntanned fit and healthy.
'Wow, you're looking well' i exclaimed 'where have you been?'
This was his reply.
'OH MAAAAAN, IT WAS AAAAAAWSOME, LIIIIKE WOW Y'KNOW.....GOA IS SUCH A TRIPPY PLACE DUDE'
The import of his words slowly sunk in.
'You've been on HOLIDAY' i said with a vestige of forced bonhommie.
''Yeah' thanks for all your help, can't wait to get back there and you know maaaaaaaan, just smoke reefers all day long and CHILL out'
I walked away without saying goodbye, knowing that if i stayed, justifiable homicide would be the outcome.
CHILL OUT?
HE HADN'T DONE ANYTHING TO CHILL OUT FROM.
My heart closed, and has not opened since to the 'homeless'
Charity in MY case begins at home, and i work hard to have one.
'Street smart' can kiss my arse
Posted by Letitcia at 10:48 PM | Comments (0)
February 21, 2006
Dogging in the Dell
You've had the ride in the Ford Capri, the two drinks (babycham)and a handful of stale peanuts at a 'local yokel' pub....and now it's down to business.
Finding a place in the great wide yonder to 'spear the bearded clam'......
This was what passed for 'romance' in my misspent and pent up youth.
It was the ultimate 'park and ride'...but the park VENUE sometimes left a lot to be desired.
How i suffered-- just to let the local lads, along with a few out of towners have a 'bunk up alfresco'.
A mile from my home was a 'copse' called Bell wood...you had to open the gate to drive into the dense and verdant thicket. It was the place i had picked primroses and violets for Mum as a child, but the attraction of flowers was dead to me now, i was a juicy adolescent and i wanted to fuck the universe...and you know what, i think i just about managed it too!!!!
If the bloke REALLY liked you he would risk the wearing down of his battery and keep the heating switched on (i can't enjoy myself when i'm cold) otherwise the fucking whilst frozen was not for the fainthearted.
It was difficult to concentrate, because the rustle of the trees and the creaking boughs made it an eerie place to do the 'car concertina'
'I can hear people moving' i complained
'shut up and keep bouncing on my cock' he replied unlovingly
'you will be CAREFUL won't you?' i pleaded in my contraception-less state
'Well, THAT'S BLOODY KILLED THE MOMENT HASN'T IT' he replied with derisive scorn
Catholic guilt would make me console and placate the selfish prat...and we would start all over again.
The car would be awash with discarded clothes, sweat, spunk ..and a tissue full of peanuts, orange slices and marachino cherries nicked from the pub.
I whined that i could hear noises again...he ignored me...and then...THERE WAS A TAP TAP TAP on the windscreen......and there was a flashing blue light....it was the rozzers!!!
Oh, the eternal shame, it was the Village Bobby...
My 'lover du jour' opened the door....Mr Policeman shined his light around the interior and fixed the beam on two terrified 'Copse copulators'.
'Would you mind opening the boot sir' asked Mr Plod
He hastily wrapped my frilly blouse round his bits, and did as he was told.
Duely satisfied, Mr Bobby explained: 'There has been alot of pig theft in the area and we have had this wood under surviellence for some time, when i heard squealing i feared the worst'
Bloody hell, was i screaming THAT loudly?
He shone his torch into a face of crimson embarassment.....
'As for you young lady, don't you think you should be getting home?'
'Don't tell Mum and Dad' i pleaded
'Just don't come here again'
And that was the end of my car fucking activities......in that wood at least...........
Posted by Letitcia at 03:04 PM | Comments (0)
February 16, 2006
OOOOOh, Baby Baby......
It is a mystery to me how EXCELLENT 16 -19 year olds are in terms of lovemakeing, much less how confidently they make the terrifying leap of faith to see a Sex worker.
I HAVE JUST DISCOVERED THE REASON
They are taught all about it at School.
Blimey, it wasn't like that in my day....it was fish head stares for sniggering, D merits for cheating and wrapped knuckles (though not spanked botties) for some major infraction.
I squirmed my way out of expulsion loads of times (though NOT with sexual favours), and the only thing REMOTELY to do with Sex was a dissected Frog on a pitrie dish.
60,000 copies of a 64 (should surely have been 69) page pamphlet are being used in numerous secondary schools in PSHE lessons (Personal social and health education).
Pigs arse!! Was i ever born in the wrong decade!!! Did all of the Amo amas amat...ambulo ambulatis ambulant...and even veni vidi vici....and these youngsters are being taught HOW TO TALK DIRTY!!!!
They are also taught to rip Mum's clingfilm off the tuppaware to avoid sexually transmitted disease..i'm still trying to get my head round THAT ONE.
If that were not hysterically funny enough...it's the soundbites from the sombre faced spokespersons for the Education Department, concerned mothers, and the blurb for the book itself that is taking it's toll on my non waterproof mascara:
'HEADS HAVE TO DECIDE WHAT IS APPROPRIATE'
'THE MAJORITY OF 14yr olds ARE NOT HAVING SEX, SO WHY SHOULD THEY BE MADE TO READ THAT STUFF (obviously a mum who has not twigged)
'THERE'S NO ACCOUNTING FOR TASTE, NOT EVERONE LIKES ORAL...NOT EVERYONE LIKE HAM AND CHEESE SARNIES EITHER (at least he didn't say fish paste)
Stuff the afterdinner speaking circuit!! I'm going to go round the schools and teach the men how to knot a cherry stalk with their tongue....though i fear they know how to do that already!!
Posted by Letitcia at 12:15 PM | Comments (0)
February 10, 2006
Grab a Granny
We all know about guys and their 'pull a pig' or 'get the ugliest woman at a disco to snog you'....well us laydeez are not averse to having a bit of fun on our nights out.......
Dawn, Nina and myself were out on the town in Sydney.
They were planning a trip to Italy, and to that end had optimistically bought a 'learna da lingo' tape, so that they might understand and respond to the ensuing Latin Lovers.
'Let's pretend we're Italian Air Stewardesses on stop-over' i suggested.
They giggled and rolled their eyes, but i had planted the seed of mischieviousness and we went ahead with our plan.
Frankly, i for one was on extremely shakey ground---- (where both the language, and the probable height requirement for Air Italia was concerned).....i could not speak one word, and was (and still am) vertically challenge to such a degree that i have to get maitre d's at 'posh nosh establishments' across the globe to provide me with pillows to make me the opimum level for the gourmet table!!!!
Still, i like a challenge--and knowing that having an accent, or appearing to come from an exotic country, guarentees that the male population appear like stink on shit.
We choose Rogues Nightclub.....located just off the Oxford St Gay enclave........down a dirty filthy lane with discarded syringes and overflowing dustbins.
Rutger Hauer was to the left of us and Alice Cooper (who earlier i had espied bestriding Kings Cross--- replete in leather and carrying a whip)was to our right.
Whooosh, like the backdraft of an inferno....the air was sucked from the entire club and all eyes rested on us.
Though i say it myself we were the cunningest stunts available on that evening and the stampede reminded me of Rowdy Gates and Rawhide....ye haaaaaa..hit 'em up and move 'em out......
'Awlright then ladies wot ken we git ya ta dreeeeeenk' drawled our first assailant.
His ten mates lingered in the background checking on his progress.....and when they discovered we were 'Eye Tye Sheilas' there was a very fierce 50 yard dash to claim abit of 'overseas oral'
It was fine for my compadre's...but there are only so many times you can say Ferarri, Pacino, Gnocchi or Carbonnara..without losing face.
I did rather well, and was enjoying my chosen beau whispering in my ear the most disgusting words imaginable when he discovered i could not speak English.
The agony of not being able to laugh and not to react to him saying: 'i want you to fuck me dad while i fist me sister'
Any damn fool would realise that you cannot actually work for an airline unless you are bilinguel..and we were surrounded by the 'damn fool club' of Sydney's finest.
Then naturally, (sod's law being the bastard that it is), one of the bright sparks from the Blue Mountains spotted a mate of his from Cabrammatta...and he was bleeding fluent in Italian.
NNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
I was a dead woman. Aussie men can get jolly batey.
If they discovered i had been playing with their affections all evening at $A100 for each bottle of Krug...it wasn't so much a dead horse under my bedclothes it was a dead WHORE with 'fava beans and a nice chianti'....
Desperate situtations calling for desperate measures was where it was at........i faked a faint with the only other words i knew 'MAMMA MIA'
When ever i hear that song, chills of what could have been run down my naughty girl spine.......
Bit of a bugger really, as i was carried out Gary Busey was strolling in with his film entourage.
He took one look at me and said: 'i thought these dames could handle their liqueur'
Posted by Letitcia at 07:31 PM | Comments (0)
February 07, 2006
Rich Bitch Glitch
Flight No CX 101 scythed through the sky scrapers of Hong Kong and deposited me at Kai Tek airport.
Customs took one look at my pink nosed puppies (tits) straining against my white Ted Lapidus designer T.Shirt and asked:
'YOU CALLY ANY FIRE REAPONS?'......
'Do i fucking look as if im any carrying fire weapons' was the favoured answer....but i was fatigued and meekly answered NO
My mate Chippie (general manager of SE Asian hotel groups)had secured me the deal of the century at the Hilton.
As usual i was travelling alone....well, you can get into all sorts of trouble if you're lucky.....and impediment or encumberances are not needed when you are 'looking for adventure' (and what ever comes my way)
A few days later i took a boat trip round the harbour on the WAN FU ferry boat..a couple of likely lads (Ex pat) steamed in...and we ended up having dinner back at my hotel
I scoured my brain to think how i could let the cute but arrogant obnoxious one down gently (I DON'T LIKE THREESOMES)...i favoured the rough looking funny bloke...THEY TRY HARDER IN BED....
The bill arrived, and it was placed next to the guys...WHO PUSHED IT >TO ME AND SAID...'THANKS, THAT WAS VERY GENEROUS OF YOU...'
WHAT THE FUCK?????
It seems they thought i was so rich, because i mentioned i was in the Taipan Suite..which was approx a million quid a night, that they thought my invitation meant i was going to pay for their company.
Get back jack, and get real.....i was so incensed (but i kept it all inside)..and excused myself to go to the bathroom....from there, i found a way to get to my room in the 900 room hotel.
They did not have my name, nor did they have my room number....and i masturbated at the thought that these freeloaders had gotten their come uppence.
HOW TERRIBLEY UNCHIVALROUS!!!!
Posted by Letitcia at 12:07 AM | Comments (0)
February 04, 2006
Free and easy: Part 3
Oh, the cock was the Cristal of Champers, the Kobe Beef of steak and a backstage pass to **insert group of choice***....
What a beautiful dick!!!
A thing of beauty is a joy forever they say...it was mine for at least this afternoon.
No resemblance to quasimodo, a button mushroom nor a frill- necked lizard.
It was just perfectly PRETTY.
However, i still had to reconcile the majesty of the beast to the idiot that was attatched to it.
I normally boycott blokes from his geographical neck of the woods......experience has taught me that the misery of the experience is not worth the money gained.
What made me think it would be any different in an environment outside of fiscal frivolity?
It was a gross error in judgment.
There are numerous sex guides to help with etiquette on the 'work bench'
He either was illiterate, naive or didn't give a toss.
He was like an unruly child who has forgotten the Ritalin for his Attention Deficit Disorder...he simply WOULD NOT BEHAVE..THE KIND OF PERSON WHO WOULD HAVE TEA AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE AND WOULD THEN THROW CREAM CAKES AT THE QUEEN AND KICK THE CORGIS IN THE GONADS.
My attempts to adore it (the wonderful willy) orally were constantly interrupted and any riding of the wild tiger was tempered by constantly being on the lookout for him ripping 'the protection' off.
Had this been a Formula One race, the safety car would be out, the yellow flags would be frantically waving and he would have been ordered to Pit...and in the 8 seconds it takes for a tyre change, they could have dragged the rookie driver from the cockpit and replaced him with a crash test dummy
We somehow reached a 1-1 orgasmic scoreline...and miraculously i shelved my irritation long enough to be (much later) 2-1 up when in exhaustion and a kind of sick ecstacy, my head lolled to the side...and noticed the time.
Fuck, i was on air...BBC was waiting for Vox Copuli .....i ran to the living room....the opposing team followed thinking he was Man. United and attempted to come from behind and draw in the dying embers of play.
'Fuck off' i snarled
With the phone clamped to one ear while the other heard my nemesis searching for the detritus of his hastily discarded attire, Southern Counties informed me i would be required imminently and a fantasy which was 7 months in the making stumbled out of the door without so much as a kiss my arse goodbye.........
I've heard of star crossed lovers..well we must have been logic starved hedonists.
A match made in heaven for sure.
What perverse prats would repeat that performance....(US)
What kind of madness would make us do it TWICE!!!!!!!!
But we did. 'to be sure to be sure' as my da would say
By the end i felt like a cross between a HSBC night deposit facility and a used, damp, screwed up snot rag.
His departure bore the indecency of haste which is the guilt badge of the married man.
It was an 'EMPTY' and i was the receptacle....well not QUITE the receptacle...there is some quaint Modus Operandi whereby on the vinager stroke, and in one swift movement..the twat relieves his testicles ALL OVER WHAT EVER PIECE OF FLESH HE CAN FIND ON THE OTHER PARTICIPANT.
It has to be something learnt at the mother's knee (or breast)....'THOUGH SHALT NOT SULLY ONE'S OWN BODY WITH THINE OWN BABY BATTER'
The upside? I cancelled my chemical peel and exfoliation session. My fair skin suffered the abrasions of hubba -hubba -hubba 'lets swop spit and weld our very souls with a prolonged snogerama'..L'oreal and Revlon head hunt this gobshite!!!
The scoreline now stands at 4-3 in my favour(hurrah)...though he says his last goal didn't count since i 'gave no imput (try telling my jaw that)and that he had to practically dribble the ball from one end of the pitch to the other without so much as a kick or a header from me'
How sexually selective.
Men...can't kill 'em and can't kill the peverse desire to go back for more.
Posted by Letitcia at 02:40 AM | Comments (0)