Archive for the 'horny' Category

What Lesbians Like

Saturday June 9, 2007

Those lesbians know a thing or two about women: The Lesbian Hot 100 List.   Jodie Foster only made no 16 – weird huh?

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I Knew Her When Her Breath Used to Stink

Monday February 12, 2007

My last night in Rio was spent again with N in a samba club I´ve been to before and still can´t remember the name of.  Whilst there, I saw this girl I knew from my very first trip to Brazil 2 years ago.  She is a lovely Brazilian-Lebanese smoothie and as tasty as it sounds, only a little bit nuts.  So nuts, in fact, that she qualified as one of only two stalkers I´ve had in my life (the other one was Arabic too funnily enough).  The last time she spoke she was housekeeping in France and then Italy after her father died in a car accident in Rio 18 months ago. 

Anyway, when I saw her the other night she looked quite simply stunning.  She´d lost weight (and she was never fat) and just looked brilliant…..a definite 9 and I wouldn´t be surprised if she was modelling now.  Unfortunately she was with some rich looking Italian guy, probably her husband, so I couldn´t be overly forward in approaching her, plus I was with N, so I thought I´d just position myself near her and wait for us to bump into each other.  After about, erm, say, 2 hours of this I finally gave-up.  I couldn´t remember her name anyway, plus I remember that her breath was a bit stinky.  She looked so much better now, I´d be suprised if her shit stank.

I´m writing this from an internet cafe in Madrid airport, my Madrid-London flight delayed by an hour.  I´m in such a foul mood.  I get these post holiday depressions that I wonder if it´s worth going on holiday in the first place.  If you factor in the pre-departure and post-arrival stress at work, plus the cost, it probably isn´t.

Brasiiiiil. Instincts. Very, Very Drunk

Saturday February 3, 2007

In Brazil.

 For those of you that have the misfortune to be in regular contact with me, other than through this blog, you´ll have heard me talk about the bad feelings I´ve had about this trip.  Something that I can´t quite put my finger on has been bothering me about it and I´ve been feeling an undue amount of anxiety.  And I trust my instincts.  Let´s hope then, that the failure of my luggage to arrive on the same plane as me is the extent of my misfortune this trip. 

After arriving, shouting at Iberia for 15 minutes, getting a taxi and remembering that I you can´t withdraw money in Brazilian ATMs after 10pm, I settled for a quiet drink with my friend Nubia, a native carioca who always shows me quite incredible amounts of hospitality (that´s not code for anything in case you´re wondering).  It´s probably a good idea, I said to myself, after getting up at 3.30am and travelling for 16 hours via Spain, to have a tranquil first night.

I woke up at 11.30 the next morning, fully-clothed, lying atop my untouched bed, wondering what the hell happened the night before.  I was so incredibly hungover, and completely without the ability to remember a thing of what had happened the night before, that I was beginning to suspect I´d been drugged/spiked, something which is apparantly not completely unheard of in Rio and which has happened to me (in Spain) before. 

Anyway, struggling to get up, I noticed two opened, but unused, condoms on the floor.  So clearly, whatever I was doing involved at least the aspiration of getting my end away.  Familiar ground, so I now feel much happier about the situation.  Although I do have horrendous images of me at least twice during the night mustering up the energy to unwrap the condoms, and then eventually succumbing to my drunkeness. by collapsing on the bed.  At the time I had no idea who I was with but Nubia eventually filled me at lunch with a stern ´arent you embarrassed?´ expression on her face.

I wasn´t really capable of feeling any human emotion, such was the size of my hangover.  It was all I could do to stand-up and god knows how I left my hotel, my general grottiness contributed to by the fact I didn´t have a change of clothes because my luggage was somewhere over the Atlantic ocean. 

Because I´m very fond of her, I was determined to be on my best behaviour that night and go to a somewhat decent restaurant in Ipanema.  We did that, but to cut a long story short we ended up drinking til 6 with her friends in her apartment in what looked like a Favela in Leme, again waking up at 6am the two of us on a single bed that would normally be just-about a suitable size for my left leg.  The horrible heat of the Brazilian summer, and the lack of air-conditioning in her apartment, made it much worse.  So naturally I felt absolutely horrendous, but at least this time she was equally complicit.

 I´m now in Sao Paulo to meet Otavia and then off to Florianoplis for 4 days.  Will blog again very soon.

No Match For Me

Tuesday July 18, 2006

Despite sending four, that’s right FOUR, emails on Friday to lucky lovely latina ladies on match.com I’ve yet to receive a single reply. Pretty staggering I know. Have you seen my picture? I’m gooooorgeous. I was disheartened to say the least to learn that men might have to send 20 emails to get even one reply.

So I thought to myself, maybe I’m looking in the wrong place. Prescription4Love seems much more on my level: the dating service for people with STDs and other chronic medical conditions. These people are bound to be desperate.

Let the Loving Begin

Thursday July 13, 2006

My photo has been approved on match.com, which signals the start of the Johnny does the Ingles campaign. Thankfuly, Match let you search on ethnicity. It seems ‘brown women’ is not an ethnicity, nor is ‘economic migrants’, so I chose ‘latin/hispanic’ and ‘asian’ instead.

A Date With the Devil…And I Missed the Bloody Football

Wednesday July 5, 2006

Everyone tells me that last night’s Germany v Italy game was the game of the tournament so far. Unfortunately, I missed it coz i went on a date with a drunken lunatic.

I’ve met her before, she’s a friend of a friend, who is famous for, erm, Liking a Drink. After the first glass of wine she got drunk pretty rapidly, getting aggressive and embarrassing at the same time. She even started to talk to a drunk Scotsman who happened to be passing by. I knew I was in trouble when after the longest 15 minutes of my life, HE began to make his excuses and leave. Anyway, it was very boring, ended with me (literally) running out of the pub leaving her alone and furiously trying to reach my ‘friend’ asking for an explanation.

If you haven’t done so already, check out Google Video. There’s an American chat show called the Charlie Rose show that they’re currently streaming for free (usually 99c). He’s not that challenging, which is why his guests are so good, especially this episode with Winona Ryder looking just lovely.

Interesting John Lennon film.

Here’s a term I’ve only recently come across: Cleveland Steamer.
Continuing the Noel Edmonds theme: Noel puts his foot in it: