fudge

Wednesday, 28 November 2012

'Seduction' Sarah Stylee

As you know I'm a bit of a (self confessed) expert in many fields ... *

You may be new to my blog and therefore have missed some invaluable words of wisdom or, maybe you are a lazy blog reader (ahem, guilty ...) in which case, what can I say?

Your life could be SO different with just the click of a mouse ....

If you need a bit of a catch up (and I would strongly advise that you do) then this is a taste of what you may have missed:

So far I've covered dating tips for men - how not to kiss (this goes for anyone really but in particular ME because I've been there already and I didn't like it ok) - my brief foray into relationship counselling and my tact and discretion which would make me an ideal personal shopper. 

Oh, and of course my dalliance into consumer testing with particular reference to control pants parts.

There are probably more but that should be enough for you to realise that I really DO know what I'm talking about.

Disclaimer in place - lets begin ... ;-)


Ok, well, the first thing you need to know is that this was my very first seduction (and I rarely find it advisable I need to try anything twice).  In the past I've always left it up to the men to do the seducing and to be honest, that's worked pretty well up until now.

My 'victim' was of course Surfer Dude.

Understandably there's always been speculation surrounding my relationship with SD. 

We've spent a great deal of time together.  He has made his feelings for me very clear from the start.  I am very fond of him AND I've been open about the fact that there has always been a spark between us.

The general consensus has always been 'get in there girl!!!'

So, what was my problem?  Well, a brief explanation .

Apart from that fact that my track record of crashing and burning in spectacular style makes me very VERY wary of putting my heart on the line again there were a couple of other things that bothered me.

SD has always been very popular with women. 

Partly that's due to his natural friendly manner (it's impossible not to like him) and his genuine liking for women and partly it's because he has this 'pretty boy' look going on (pissing myself as I type that knowing how much he would hate for me to describe him in that way, but it's true, he has ;).

Funnily enough, although I've always appreciated SD's look he's never really been what I would consider to be my 'type'.  He's tall and lean, blond and tanned ... incredibly fit -  I know, I know,  I'm wondering why that wouldn't really be my type too ...

The truth is, I've always tended to go for men who are a little more hmmm ... left of centre shall we say ...

I've known a few of SD's girlfriends in the past, most of them have been pretty damned stunning and there have been quite a few of them (blog fodder for another day ;).  It's not so much that he was a player exactly he was just too busy having a good time and unwilling to compromise his lifestyle to settle down and fit in with convention. 

It doesn't particularly bother me that he has a past, I'd be far more worried if he hadn't!  But, did I really want to risk screwing up a friendship that means a great deal to me?  Hmmm ...

Ok, now that's out of the way - back to the seduction!

Having finally been convinced that maybe I should stop buggering about and give him a whirl, or, as was so eloquently said, stop being such an 'arse', I decided to pull out all the stops and do this thing properly!

Now I've spent a fair amount of time knocking SD back so I realised that I might need to be just  a little  .... obvious?

I considered my options:

1) invite him round and open the door stark bollock naked ...

But what if he assumed I'd just 'forgotten' to put my clothes on or something ...  (What???  it happens!).

2) invite him round and open the door wearing a seduction kit of stockings, high heels, nipple tassels (no, I don't actually HAVE any - but I could get some from somewhere or knit some or something couldn't I?  ;) and murmur 'come and get me big boy'...

What if he assumed I'd just forgotten the rest of my clothes and just always wore that kit underneath  and/or that I was drunk.
3) Invite him round and just pounce on him the moment I opened the door ...

Yep, he would definitely think I was drunk (either that or that I was trying to bite him again ....)

4)  Be honest and open with him.  Sit him down - talk to him -  tell him that despite my fears, despite my reservations that maybe he was right.

Maybe we could make it work. Maybe I could have faith just one last time.

That maybe it was time I stopped being scared, that maybe it wasn't always me that got it wrong, maybe I wasn't the jinx I'd began to think I was and maybe it WAS time to start believing in myself and allowed myself a chance for happiness ... Because I do know that he would do everything in his power to make me happy ...

Lol ...

Bollocks to THAT idea - I mean, god, who on earth would do THAT?

You almost took me seriously for a moment there didn't you??

Be honest -  you did didn't you?  ;)

Obviously  I went for option 5.

Invite him round - be subtly seductive - send out subliminal messages and remind him how totally irresistible I am by, I don't know ... twirling my hair - posing provocatively on the sofa or, or ...  something??

Yep, I could do that!

First things first - arrange a child free night - tick!

Secondly - spend four hours giving myself that 'effortless sex goddess look'.

Slight hiccough when my temperamental hair straighteners refused to heat up leaving me looking something like this!

  1. Photo: Doesn't really look any better this way up does it ...
Not a photo taken on the night in question - I was far too traumatised to be taking photos - it actually looked MUCH worse than this!

Which maybe I could possibly  have worked with if I hadn't decided to brush it - DOH!
Seriously, my hair was SO fucking big by the time I'd finished it qualified for it's own postcode and  I actually doubt I could fit a photo of it on this page!

But hey, I'm nothing if not resourceful so I pinched Miss Macs hairspray (not something I ever use myself) and proceeded to turn my head into a solid lacquered deconstructed birds nest.

Oh yes, great result!
I also managed to get it EVERYWHERE ... 

No kidding, it was in my eyes (ouch - do NOT do that!) -  in my mouth (god it tastes disgusting!), all over my clothes ...

Seriously, my eyelashes (having already had three coats of Va Va Voom extreme mascara and then getting a liberal plastering of extra hold volumising hairspray) were like bloody lethal weapons - if SD came anywhere near those mofo's he'd have shredded his face!

Having now left myself a little under and hour to perform a miracle,my nerves in tatters, I hopped back into the shower.


My hair unsurprisingly objected to this further assault and by the time I'd dried it for the second time it was practically vertical!

But, like I said, I'm resourceful ... ;)

I decided to go for the French look and have a thick plait hanging over one shoulder, which, if I do say so myself, looked pretty damned sexy!

I briefly considered donning a striped shirt, a beret, slinging a string of onions round my neck and watching an episode of 'Allo' Allo' to complete the experience but unfortunately I didn't have a striped shirt ... ;)

So I considered my wardrobe.

Now SD isn't really a leg man which is a real bugger as there is no doubt that my legs are one of my best features (and can be a huge distraction from many of the stupid things I say and do).

SD is a boob man ....

How do I know that? 

I'm not really sure ...

Anyway, I spent some time considering mine ...

They looked ok to me and I've never had any complaints -  BUT - were they what a boob man was looking for ....  THAT I didn't know (I always end up with the leg men).

Stuff it, I decided I'd just have to convert SD into a leg man and play to my strengths.

So, I was ready.

Soft lighting, seductive music, bottle of wine poured down my neck open to breath, cat litter tray emptied, and that bastard cat Bear slung out for the night and there was a knock at the door ...

FFS, he was at least 10 minutes early - SD perennially runs late and I wasn't mentally prepared yet!

So I ran away and hid in the bathroom ....

Gave myself a 30 second pep talk (mostly consisting of repeated saying fuck, fuck, FUUUCCKK!!!!) and went to answer the door.

'Did you forget the rest of your clothes?' he smiled looking down at me.

Hmmm!

'What's that god awful music' he asked, 'I thought you were child free tonight?'

'It's a bit dark in here' - flicking on a couple of light switches ...

' I thought we could watch this later if you like' - chucking down a DVD - The Raven - A thriller about a psychopath  on a brutal killing spree based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe.

Things weren't going exactly to plan here ...

I thought we could just have a glass of wine and talk I said arranging myself artistically on the sofa.

Ok said SD sitting on the OTHER fucking sofa!  What do you want to talk about?

Damn, he wasn't supposed to ask me that!

Playing for time I reached up to twirl my hair provocatively and encountered a plait.  Great, I suppose I could have swung it round my head like a bloody lasso or something.

I cast around for something to say that didn't involve me blurting out 'look, do you still fancy me or what?' (which was what was going around my head but even I could see how puerile that sounded).

SD was looking at me with some concern, I think it was something to do with the facial expressions I was pulling whilst having all these internal conversations.

'Are you ...  drunk' he said eventually.

Clearly my best option would have been to say yes.

I took a deep breath - it was now or never time!

'I didn't forget my clothes I was just trying to distract you from my boobs because I'm not sure if they are ok and I didnt have any nipple tassels and I can't knit, well, at least I CAN sort of but I can't go round corners so I can only knit scarves and even then I'm not really sure how to finish off so they dont come unravelled ....' At which point I ran out of breath.

'You can't KNIT?' SD interjected looking slightly confused.

'No!  I can't fucking knit and yes, I MIGHT have had a glass or even two of wine before you arrived but I'm NOT drunk it's just that my stupid hair straightners are fucked and I can't twirl a bloody plait can I?

By now SD was looking a bit scared.

'Okaaay', he said, is something wrong - 'you seem a little ....'  words to describe my behaviour seemed beyond him by this point

'Oh FFS' I said, let me make this simple for you!

'I am T R Y I N G to seduce you you complete tosser!'

Well put no?

SD looked completely nonplussed.  Seriously gobsmacked, totally speechless.

Then he started laughing.

BASTARD (after all my hard work too!).

Then he came over and sat beside me and, lifting my chin up (I couldn't even look him in the eye at this point) he said softly:

'Tell me honestly Sarah - just how the fuck I was ever supposed to work THAT one out? ...'

and then he kissed me ....

*This is obviously on the basis of bugger all including but not exclusively any success or lack of thereof.


Monday, 12 November 2012

It's Not Me - It's Him!

You know how men ramble on about all kinds of crap and you just nod and smile while you plan next weeks meals or wonder whether you could get away with dying your hair blue?

I mean, you can't possibly listen to EVERYTHING they say ...  can you??

I do it quite a lot with Surfer Dude.  Mostly he's waffling on about his second favourite Harley wheels or the intricate in's and outs of a Baja engine.  I figure I'm just a sounding board and he doesn't really expect any kind of meaningful conversation anyway which, let's face it, is just as well, because I know bugger all about most of the things he's banging on about.

Well occasionally it comes back to bite me on the bum ...

I've had a great weekend.  On Friday night I went to listen to a local band - Stuff Stan Likes -   SD, as I've mentioned before, knows EVERYBODY!

Well, at least everybody knows him.  Seriously, we can't go anywhere without people stopping to talk to him.

The minute we walked through the door he was accosted by a couple who insisted on buying us a drink -  not so shabby ;)

The trouble with SD is that he tends to recognise people only with reference to the car/bike etc that they own, He doesn't remember names and so can't introduce me.  If I'm in a benevolent mood I'll introduce myself, hold out my hand and say, 'Hi, I'm Sarah' which usually prompts them to offer their name and gets SD out of a sticky situation.

If I'm not, I'll stand there looking expectantly at SD and watch him squirm ;).

So anyway, we had a great time.  Not only were the band rocking but the pub was holding a beer and cider festival so it was heaving.

On Saturday we went to pick up a caravan that SD kind of accidentally bought on EBay.  I know, I know, how the hell do you manage to do that?

Ask SD, he seems to manage to do it effortlessly which is how he ended up with the Jeep and the green Beetle.

On the way there a car passed us, bloke waving, beeping his horn etc. 'Who's that' I asked.

'Umm, Dave I think' said SD - you know, you met him last year, remember ...

Hmm, not ringing any bells for me.  Unsurprisingly as it turned out as apparently when I saw him he was driving a drag racing tractor and dressed in a gorilla suit (now that I DO remember!).

Saturday night we went out to see another band, Snappa - now THEY are in a class of their own!!!  I'm going to attach a link here - go listen to their rendition of Mrs Robinson - I insist!

Go on .....

Look, I'm not a Simon and Garfunkel fan either but trust me ok - GO AND LISTEN!

And then listen to some of their other stuff.

And then come on down to Somerset (you can stay with me:) and I'll take you to see them live!

So, back to the caravan (this is where the 'me not listening' bit comes in).

Occasionally, just occasionally mind, SD says something that I probably should have listened to ....

On Sunday we had a good look over the caravan.  Now, being SD it's not your average, run of the mill (if there is such a thing) van.  It's quaint, it's quirky, it's tiny which is about all he can cope with as he doesn't see himself as the caravan club type but this one has just about enough charm for him to be able to deal with it.

Bear in mind that I'm not good at being told how to do things, particularly things that seem obvious to me such as 'how to lock a caravan door'.  So, when SD started to explain it to me I was busy mentally redecorating the interior ( I'm thinking blue and white stripes - sound familiar ;) and maybe some glitter ...) for him and then, when he asked me to lock it up the bloody thing wouldn't!

SD expressed surprise that I couldn't do it bearing in mind that he had spent at least 5 minutes explaining how just moments before.

So I got shitty because I felt he was patronising me, 'of course I can lock a fucking door!'

Two minutes later SD said with exaggerated patience. 'Sarah, don't you think your being just a little childish here?'

'No I don't' I said, 'and frankly I'm a little offended by that suggestion!'

'Ok', he said.  'Then perhaps you can explain to me why, when all I was doing was trying to help you, you ran away singing with your hands over your ears and now you're hiding behind a hedge ....'

Wednesday, 7 November 2012

It's An Education (but not as we know it ... )

Today The Lounge is being hosted by Tegan from Musings Of The Misguided and the key word is:

INTERVIEW

As is my way, rather than writing a whole new post I put the key word into my blog search to see what came up and this was the result:

It's An Education (but not as we know it ... )

Overheard conversation between Miss Mac and a friend who I shall call Leah (because that is in fact her name ;).

MM - I hate Winter and the dark nights.

L - Yeah, me too but at least you get an extra hour in bed.

MM - Yeah, but that's only for one night though isn't it.

L - Is it ..... ?  I thought it was EVERY night!!!

I despair .....

Mind you, apparently Leah also thought a blow job was when you did really badly at an interview - I shit you not!!!

I'm not really sure if I should be more concerned that Miss Mac does know what a blow job is ....

God, they grow up too fast dont they?  Luckily Miss Mac thinks it's all 'totally gross' anyway.

I discovered yesterday that kids can now request something called a C Card - this gives them access to free condoms.

I'm torn between being horrified that my 13 year old daughter is being offered this and relieved that the option is available.

I'm a realist.  I know that kids experiment.  I know that they want to grow up too fast.  I know that this is a time where physically and hormonally it's bloody confusing and I also know that emotionally no child, male or female, is, at that age, ready to take that kind of step!

Maybe I'm being naive in not worrying too much about Miss Mac but we have a good relationship, we talk about things and she is a very switched on girl with a clear focus on her future ....  Ok, I still worry ....

I've digressed a little, this was meant to be a lighthearted post and so I shall return to the story of the C Card.

Apparently one of Miss Mac friends got hold of one.  More I'm sure for the street cred of carrying one rather than with any intention of needing it and, yesterday, in an English lesson, while the teacher was out of the room for a moment she got a pack of condoms out and handed one to Miss Mac...

It was strawberry flavoured, bright pink and a size large ....

It really tasted of strawberries too - how did she know that??? Yep, I made the mistake of asking ....

Anyway, obviously Miss Mac thought it would be funny to blow it up and hit her friend over the head with it (where exactly WAS that teacher???) - she then got it stuck on her finger (it really hurt!) and then she stuck a pen in it and popped it so ....  Her friend gave her another one!

Which Miss Mac started to blow up ......

Only it got hooked on her brace .....

And the teacher came back into the room ....

And Miss Mac had a large, pink, strawberry flavoured, half inflated condom in her mouth....

The teacher looked at Miss Mac....

Miss Mac looked at the teacher....

The condom deflated as Miss Mac smiled at the teacher and dangled attractively from her brace and down her chin ....


The teacher - with remarkable control - requested that Miss Mac remove the condom from her mouth and continue with the set work.

Miss Mac -  attempted to explain through the (now flacid and flapping) condom that she couldn't as it was hooked on her brace when the teacher held up her hand to silence her.

'Miss Mac', she said.  'I am going to give you a piece of valuable advice.  Something that will stand you in good stead for the rest of your life.  Something that the rest of the class should consider and something that your parents should have drummed into you from a very early age'.

When you are in public it is very rude and considered EXTREMELY unattractive to ...

Talk With Your Mouth Full!