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Wednesday, 25 May 2011


Call it what you want- "Friends with benefits", "Fuck buddies", "Colossally shitty idea" either way, you should most probably just take a cold shower and let that go. So yes, there's nothing quite as fun as that no holds barred time of flirting without expectation, fucking without drama and still getting to laugh while you cuddle but alas, like all good things it ends in that akward moment when you see him hooking up with someone else and all of a sudden you're that jealous girl giving stank in the club!!

I mean yes, i could launch into my already rehearsed speech about how you need to put your friendship first but to be honest, that doesn't really convince me either, cause lets face it, we're the exception right? Wrong. With benefit friends, someone always pulls a Charlie Sheen, loses their job, but for some reason still thinks they're #winning. He WILL fall for you, or even more likely, you will for him and end up like every other notch on his bedpost: forgotten.

Then you get friendships like me and *Tequilla, we didn't quite start out as most friends do-insert wink- and even now that we are friends, there is always that undercurrent of sexual electricity so whats the harm right? Again, wrong. Ok, to be honest, i'm not sure. The truth is it's a little less black and white when the weather is grey and all but actually screams "FORNICATE BITCHES!!!!"

The world preaches that sex is just sex but i don't buy that. I think sex is just as much emotion as it is legs in the air-mid shriek-carnal, screwing. But seriously though, there is no such thing as "No strings attached", its just a matter of who will be the sap standing alone with their banjo in the rain- I know, i should watch fewer American movies!

So yes, go for it if that's what you want to do but remember your manners: Guests usually take gifts to a party. In this case i'd suggest a marker... For his bedpost.

Thursday, 19 May 2011

Just Friends?

They lied to you. Who? Everyone.
All of the people that said you looked nice in that horrendous skirt you're wearing or told you that wearing a midrift bearing top in 2011 was still in fashion and even worse the people who said you can be friends with your ex.

Gasp!! I can almost hear the chorus of "What the hell do you know" screaming through cyber-space from all the naive little people who are either still in love with their ex's but have been friend zoned so hard they have to pretend that thats what they wanted too, or from the ones who think their ex isn't into them when he all but actually drools and starts scratching his man bits every time you so much as smile a him.

And then there are those who don't fit either of those categories and are sitting there smugly thinking they got it right. Hi, i see you Self-righteous- and you're even more deluded than the rest. Thats really the saddest place to be because its there in emotional Siberia where you are most likely to just have no idea of what the hell is going on. Let me guess, you genuinely see him as a friend but somehow you still kind of miss something more and you relate to Adele a little more than you should? Yep. He's not your friend. 

So what does this all mean? Do you toss him out like that awful skirt and turn that midrift into the wash rag it so desperately needs to be? Maybe. What you don't do though, is run around like you've got it all figured out throwing around the term "just friends" like you have even an inkling of what that means.

The fact is ex-boyfriends suck and break-ups reeeeeeeally suck and no amount of being cordial or civil or friendly is going to change that. Especially if like *Strohrum your ex is really the reason Kanye West released "Toast to the douchebags" (Yeah, he's really not your friend).

My advice, be honest. People really aren't as stupid as we like to think.l If you're not over him, he knows that, so just wait until you are. If he's not over you, don't be a bitch, leave him alone till he is- and no one buys that whole "I really didn't know" bullshit you're selling.

There is no blueprint for getting over someone, just like there is no Guantanamo for people in Corduroy pants or Al Qaeda for shops that sell mini-skirts in sizes above a 36, thats life and love and it really just kind of sucks. 

Monday, 2 May 2011

Emotional concealer

Now i'm not really a make-up person, partly because im so fucking hot (just joking) but mostly because its tedious and fake to spend an hour turning myself into someone i'm not. But at the very thought of a lovebite i am the first person reaching for the concealer because lets face it, love bites are glorified tramp stamps. Hickies are ugly and they don't match the rest of your skin, they are a reminder to you and everyone that sees you that you have deviated from the path.

We all have that part of ourselves which we'd rather pretend didnt exist. That part of us that makes us go back to ex-boyfriends and betray our values and our friends, that part of us that we hide behind lipgloss and aviators, until we get to our rooms and we are faced with the fact that we can be better. That part of us that is kind of like a hickie: ugly and doesn't match the rest of us.

And thats the important part: perspective. It doesn't match the rest of us. We might not be all good but we're not all bad either.

Yet there i was dabbing concealer on both my hickies.. But then it dawned on me that concealer merely hides the bruise, it doesn't take it away. You can fool everyone but when you touch your neck, it'll still be a little tender, a little sore and u'll know that under the concealer there is that little bit of ugly.

So i took it off and i saw myself exactly as i was, not quite pretty but not quite ugly. Not quite lost but a little way from found.