So i've decided to clear away the online cobwebs and get back into writing. It's been too long, and I'm not sure why I abandoned it. As anyone who blogs will no doubt agree, it's the perfect medium for venting out secrets and stories that you might not otherwise share with your friends.

And so much has happened in a year. Well, on a light note and with regards to my last post on here dated June 30th, I managed to see the Spice Girls. Twice. As i'd anticipated, they were amazing.

More closer to home though, the boy and I broke up at the end of March. It was tough, like all break-ups are. However, in retrospect, perhaps it was for the better. The relationship was destructive at times, and I wasn't totally content with some things. Perhaps i'm just a hopeless romantic, but he never told me I looked nice or said affectionate things. I'm not asking for that kind of attention every day, but once in a while surely is expected in a long-term relationship?

Anyway, i'm managing to move on. Although i'm sure that meeting up with him now and then for a good fucking isn't doing either of us any good, nor helping me to move on.

I need to put a stop all that, i realise that. However, the guy knows how to fuck. And he's got a beautiful massive cock. Can one use the word 'juicy' to describe a cock? Well, i am. Because, his cock is juicy.

I shall go into more detail about all that at a later date no doubt. However, i'm in an internet cafe in Leeds, so hardly think that going on about cocks and fucking is wise.

However, I feel I must mention an incident last night in Leeds train station. I was so desperate for a pee, that I dashed into the public toilets in the station. Unable to hold it in, and with no money, I crawled under the barrier and dashed into the cubicle. Whilst peeing, I noticed a shadow underneath the cubicle partition, that I at first simply thought was some sort of fan going round. I soon realised this was not the case. There was a guy in the adjoining cubicle... having a wank. I wasn't quite sure what to do - whilst I was pretty disgusted that this was going on in the toilet next to me, I somehow couldn't bring myself to leave the toilet. Admittedly, I was slightly turned on. I could hear the sound of his heavy breathing, and the sound of his cock as he was wanking.

Quite daringly, I bent down to look under the cubicle partition. Only, at the same time, the guy looked under as well. I jumped back up in shock and stood there. Then, the guy looks over the cubicle wall. So he wasn't old and ugly - infact, he was pretty fit. Completely without thinking, I just got my cock out and started wanking. It was then that he gestured for me to join him in his cubicle. At that, i zipped up my jeans and ran out at full Forrest Gump speed.

The past 6 years of my life have been leading up to this moment...



I'm excited. Enough said. I think they look absolutely stunning - despite the fact that Victoria looks like she's smuggling Right Said Fred down her corset. And I have absolutely no idea what Geri was thinking when she got dressed. They're all maturing wonderfully though.

Being a retail management whore (i.e. the one who spends their entire life working in the store, not spending in the store), one gets very little "me time", so a couple of days off in a row is a sublime treat!

However, i've found myself becoming extremely frustrated with the amount of fit boys there are in numerous fashion stores around London, compared to how many there are in my store. Zero. Oxford Circus TOPMAN and Selfridges are prime examples of 'fit stores'. Even Bershka has its very own little tanned fitty working in the basement.

You know you've got a couple of issues, when you start frequencing said stores just in the hopes of seeing the boys you like. It's also a bonus if they serve you at the cashdesk.

Unfortunately, i'm a complete tit when it comes to getting a sales assistant to notice me for reasons other than selling me a couple of t-shirts and a belt. I'm even worse when it's me on the other side of the cash-desk - my voice breaks, i start throwing hangers everywhere, and i seem to lose all control of my limbs.

Working in Knightsbridge however, that doesn't happen very often. If ever. No handsome boys venture over here. As such, there's no opportunity to 'jock block'...

'Jock Blocking': carefully timing your attack, then jumping on the till when you notice a hot guy in the queue, and stealing him for yourself, to the annoyance of your fellow gay cashiers. Whilst this is a lot of fun (come on, we work in retail), it can be extremely frustrating when you're the one being 'jock blocked'.

In other news:

...My housemate is a total cunt. I'm looking to move in august, he's a real pain in the arse. Basically, the guy has a lot of issues. When i moved to London, he seemed to think we were going to get together and live happily ever after. Unfortunately, muscle-bound skinheads aren't my niche. Also, he is bland. He has no charisma. He's like a smudge.
Anyway, since TheBoi came onto the scene, he's been a total wanker with me. I need to move.

...TheBoi came over last night and we had fantastic sex. The anal douche i bought from 'Harmony' has proven to be more useful than i'd originally anticipated. It's nice to be cleaned out pre-fuck, and means i can go for hours without suddenly feeling like my arse is going to self-combust. A blessing, because TheBoi really knows how to fuck.

I'm glad I decided to wear shorts this morning, only to arrive back in London to torrential downpour. Note to self: don't even contemplate wearing white shorts when travelling, especially if one chooses to eat pasta salad for lunch and travel on the underground for 30 minutes.

I politely refused my nan's offer to make me sandwiches to take with me. There's nothing worse than opening a warm leather bag, and the whiff of squashed tuna sandwiches filling the train carriage. With the seat next to me untaken, i was left to enjoy my (somewhat messy) pasta salad as i listened to my ipod and read the further adventures of Belle de Jour. Hoping the elderly gentleman sat behind me couldn't see that I was reading about cock-sucking and cum facials.

At Wakefield, a guy about the same age as myself took the next to me. He was handsome in that indie-boy, unshaven, scruffy kind of way. After about half an hour of reading his book, he fell asleep on the fold-away table. 15 minutes into his slumber, i couldn't help but notice the bulge in his jeans. We're not just talking a semi here either, this was a full-blown boner... and i was impressed.

The sight alone, and the desperation just to want to reach out and touch it, gave me a hard-on. I hastily chose to read the GNER magazine in an attempt to supress my disgusting urges, and my cock.

BF text me when i got in: are u home yet bumface? x
I replied: Yes thanks cuntstick x
BF: Meet me at Covent Garden in 40 mins. Be there or be gay. x

I'm going to Covent Garden.