A Severe Banging 2: The Next Day

So nobody from the council came in the afternoon to contradict the morning workmen, in the end. I’m assuming now, in the cold light of the next day, that the shift in time was due to my ringing the council back on Wednesday to beg them to come out sooner, even though I meant more like the following day. But afternoon to morning was fine. It just all took me by surprise.

The two guys repaving my balcony were there for the better part of the morning, and that stuttering guy actually sounded really cute. A gentle soul. He probably has a girlfriend who mistreats him. Sigh. His boss sounded just awful, like most alpha-male, blue-collar swine. Oh well.

NB: “Swine” is the plural form of “swine”, apparently. Which is news to me. I thought I’d just mentioned it so you didn’t think I made a mistake. In that instance, at least. Not that I’m saying you don’t know how to spell. I… erm… oh I don’t know.

I seem to have hit a rough patch this week, so my depression must be fighting through the medication. Maybe I should go out today, but booze never helps. It does cheer me up to see people though. I just… well… have nowhere else to go. The pub will be open at 2 pm, so all I need to do is stick around for a grocery order that’s due before then. I generally just get super-depressed on alcohol if I have a three day binge at home alone. I have no booze in the flat, so whatever I drink down there will be the end of it.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, my pub’s back open! It looks the same as usual, which was kinda the idea. They weren’t going to use the fire as an excuse to change anything. It was the Steel City Beer Festival over the weekend, so there were some strangers in there when I dropped by on Friday, but that’s ok. Here’s a brief video of me enjoying my first pint back:

No word from my guitar Yoda lately. I drunkenly messaged him on Friday to ask if he fancied a chat, to which he said he’d call me on Sunday. It’s now Tuesday so… erm… I don’t know what’s happening there. In line with my mood drop, I seem to have lost a bit of interest in guitar playing anyway, so I’m not sure what we would have talked about. I guess we do have other things to say to one another. I think.

During my Wednesday-Friday binge last week, I did end up with some new people in my PlayStation friends list, which often happens. Their appearance usually being a surprise to me the following day. Nothing came from them though, as they were mostly people who don’t speak the same language, so text chats via Google’s translator was the only thing we could manage. Sexy, huh?

Hmm, what else? Oh, another sign that I’m in the midst of a low mood attack is me watching Will & Grace again. It’s my happy place. I was working through The Mysterious Cities of Gold, but I needed something lighter. The brutal rape of South America by the Conquistadores is hardly mood-lifting stuff. I haven’t watched any more of that Rome series, due to how grim it is. But I discussed all that in a previous post.

So, yeah, I’m not feeling very creative or interested in anything cultural, plus contact with people is still practically non-existent. I feel like I’m adrift in a lifeboat in the middle of an infinite ocean. Only with a television and fresh water. And a fridge. And the capacity to have takeaways delivered. And go out to the pub.

You get the idea.

Right… so… erm… yeah… I best go have a shower so that, should I decide to, I can head out to the pub straight after my shopping is delivered. I hope your week is fairing better than mine. Well, mine’s not fairing poorly, per se, it’s just my depression that’s causing issues.

Good times.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Woken early by a severe banging

Chance would be a fine thing.

I was awoken this morning at around 8 am by noise on the outside of my building. I think it actually managed to make its way into my final dream of the night. Anyway, I opened my living room curtains to find a ladder attached to the balcony. A bit confused, was I. The council are supposed to be coming out later on today to examine the leak/flood I mentioned in my last post, so the early hour of workmen actually there doing work without checking anything first seemed/seems a little off. I’m wondering whether to call the police, or if there is even anything to call them about. I tried ringing the council but, due to their super-high volume of calls, their motherfucking phoneline hung up on me. A robot put the phone down on me. What a world, huh?!

Basically, my concern is that, keen to get something done about the leak (understandably), my neighbour downstairs has hired workmen of her own. A guy did come to my door eventually with ID, but I assume such things can be faked. He also had a bad stutter, which seems to have gone now, as he is speaking to his colleagues quite clearly.

My possibly paranoid concerns are: why, when even their phoneline is hanging up on people, are the council able to come out so soon and actually get stuff done; why didn’t they ask to come in to examine my balcony first, instead deciding to repave it apropos of nothing; was the man at the door affecting a stutter to make me feel sympathetic so as to trust him; what’s going to happen if/when the council does turn up this afternoon?

I’m doubtful as to a council tenant being so desperate to get work done that they’d actually spend money on it themselves, unless I get a bill from a bunch of thugs connected to the dodgy cunts who live in and around this area. I can hear that loud cockney guy down there now, so it wouldn’t be too surprising if he was involved.

Well, I guess only time will tell. I don’t like being made a fool of but, then again, it’s very early, and I’m aware of how confused I am.

Sigh.

I’ll post again later on today/in the week to let y’all know what happens.

Wish me luck!

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The Great Flood

I managed to get up and showered nice and early today, as I was expecting two knocks at my door. The first was supposed to be the supermarket, delivering tasty, tasty booze; while the second was supposed to be a delivery of some minor guitar accessories. Who actually knocked on my door first was a lovely man from the council, who was here to inform me that there was another leak from my flat to the one below. I rolled my eyes and calmly made an appointment for them to come out this coming Monday. After the man left, I went and peeked out my lounge window onto the balcony and was shocked to see a lake out there. From corner to corner to corner to corner, the recent rainfall had settled, rising to about four inches. Eek! Now being concerned that this may actually affect my property, I spent the next two hours out there with a bucket and dustpan very, very, very slowly siphoning the water off and pouring it down the toilet. Sigh. I legitimately don’t think I’ve done that much physical labour in my entire life. Well, it seems to be mostly gone now, and apparently it’s going to be clear and mild over the next few days so, hopefully, by the time another torrent comes, the council will have don’t something about it.

Time for a paragraph break, methinks!

It actually took me two hours to get through to the council, starting off at number thirty-five in the hold queue. The lady at the call centre said they’d request an “escalation” on her computer to, hopefully, get somebody to ring and come out before the weekend. But, I dunno, I get the feeling nobody’s gonna call.

Strangely enough, even though it was a stressful event and very hard work, having something different to do was actually quite nice. I genuinely haven’t been out on my balcony for that long in the ten years I’ve lived here, and it may have given me the confidence to finally sit out there casually. I’m making no promises though.

While I was busy in the cotton fields, my shopping and guitar accessory orders did arrive, so I now have a fair amount of booze to get through. I was going to wait until tomorrow, when my regular pub reopens, but I think I’ve earned a few jars.

So, basically, I’m now going to get drunk and watch some therapeutic Parks & Recreation.

If you believe in any invisible space wizards, please pray to them for me to ask for no rain to fall in Sheffield over the weekend. It might be nice to distract them from persecuting LGBT folk, for a change.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Sleeping with the windows closed

I can’t tell you how great it is to have the temperature drop like it has. Well, I can: it’s really great! Sitting still and not sweating is a pleasure you don’t fully appreciate until it you can do it. As mentioned in my last post, the colder weather means that the local gobshites stay indoors, which also means my blood pressure has gone down considerably. It also-also means that I can start recording music again, which I may do this afternoon. I’ve got plenty of musical ideas to work with, so I just need to pick one.

That pain in the right side of my torso has completely gone now. Perhaps it was just something to do with how I’ve been sleeping. I keep forgetting to ring the council to ask them to provide me with a new bed. One that doesn’t fall apart. Maybe I’ll do that after I finish writing this. If the pain was to do with my liver, then I guess I’ll know when I have my next drinking session (binge). I was going to order some booze with the shopping that came yesterday, but I’ve just not been in the mood. My regular pub reopens in a couple of days, so maybe I’ll wait till then. We shall see.

There were a lot of emergency services vehicles around my area last night. I counted four separate sirens in total (I’m never sure which siren corresponds to which service). We also had a police helicopter knocking about above us, so something big must have happened. I’m hoping they’re finally cracking down on the gang activity that seems to have increased since the end of the lockdown, but that’s probably just wishful thinking. Plus, I think if they’re making planned “busts”, then they won’t march in with sirens blazing. Hmmm. I’ll keep an eye on the local news.

I spent the bulk of yesterday cooking, although I prefer to use the term “battling” when it comes to concocting one of my curries. I didn’t use a pack of preprepared stir fry vegetables this time. I actually chopped everything! Well, all except the tomatoes, as the supermarket didn’t have the size I wanted, so I had to cheat with a tin. I used two tins of coconut milk in this recipe, just to see what difference it made. It’ll probably mean my heart attack comes sooner. I also used lamb mince and paneer, as the “centrepiece”, or whatever you call it. I didn’t have a portion yesterday, as I find curries taste better after a night in the fridge; although, from what I tasted whilst battling, it’s a bloody fine one! I divided it up into three servings, so one’s gone in the freezer. Woo!

A guitar amplifier I really want is on sale secondhand at my local guitar shop. It’s quite a tempting price, although still quite a lot. It’s a coveted model, so it may have gone by now, which just means I won’t have to decide anyway.

I literally dusted off a cheap guitar [see picture below] the other day that I bought years ago, just to see if it was any good. I wasn’t impressed when I first bought it, impulsively, I must say, but it’s actually a really nice instrument. I had to put new strings on it, which was a pain in the arse, as they had completely rusted. It’s a Vintage (the brand, not the age) SG and, while certain parts of it certainly feel it’s £70 price-tag, I’ve been able to coax some lovely tones out of it. Using that tube amp I started reusing again helps. Everything seems to sound great through it. I did have an Epiphone SG a while back, but I wasn’t all that impressed with it. Maybe, after my first one finally arrives, I’ll put in an order with that custom guitar luthier for an SG-shape, which they do, erm, do. I’ve already started planning which colour and pickup configuration I want. This is also what’s putting me off buying that secondhand amp. I need the cash for more guitars!

Listening-wise, I’ve gone back to good ol’ Hard-Fi this week. Their third and, to date, final album has its iffy moments, but the first two are quite wonderful. The second one is definitely underappreciated. Hopefully they’ll release their long-gestating fourth album soon. I think they’ve been waiting for their guitarist to re-join the band. I actually appear in their Wikipedia entry, as I lamented in a Twitter post (when I was still on there) that they were no longer listed as on a hiatus, and had officially disbanded. While I didn’t mention this to them directly, they did respond, clarifying that they were still hiatussing [real word]. This brief back-and-forth is what appears in their Wikipedia entry, although my original tweet no longer exists. But I know it was me! That’s about as close to fame as I’ll ever get, methinks.

I tried out Glasvegas’ new album earlier today, which I couldn’t get through. Maybe I’ll try again. Their second album, Euphoric Heartbreak, isn’t quite as bad as I remembered. It’s certainly better than their last couple of releases. Their “sixth form poetry” is amusingly bad, but in an endearing sorta way. It’s like: “Aww, they’re really trying!”. Condescending, I know. But true.

I’m sure the music I produce is no better.

I’ve discovered the Rod Stewart/Ronnie Wood band Faces, which was active in the early 1970s. I don’t think I’ve heard much Wood-era Rolling Stones, but his work with Faces is something very special indeed. I’d love to know what guitar amp he’s using, as the tones he produces sound as if they’ve been sent down from heaven. I’ll have to do some research, although I’m sure it’ll turn out to be a model way out of my specification requirements (too loud, basically) and price range. Life, huh?!

Well, I don’t have much else to report. I’m just kind of existing at the moment, as one does. There’s still been little to no communication with anybody, which I guess is no bad thing. I have lots of DVDs and video games to keep me company, so at least that’s something. I’ve started replaying Dragon Age: Inquisition, which I gave up on not long after starting about four years ago. Turns out, it’s a lot of fun! I’m just roaming around doing quests, as and when I can be arsed. I’m finding it’s a good one to play just before I go to bed as a way of winding down. I’ve downloaded some other single player titles as, of course, my gaming buddies are non-existent at this point. It’s my own fault.

I’ve finally started watching that Rome series from 2005. It’s exactly what I feared – a show about horrible people doing horrible things to each other, with distractingly gratuitous sex and nudity thrown in for, I dunno, some reason. I think it’s the show that inspired things like Game of Thrones. I’m not a prude, as I watch quite a few peoples’ fair share of pornography, but I just don’t like it in drama. It’s like when the narrative of a musical stops to have a musical number. I’m all like “Why are they singing and dancing all of a sudden?! Just get on with the bloody story!”. I don’t dislike musicals quite as much as I used to, but that thought still runs through my head. So, yes, Rome is ok, I guess. I just don’t care about anything that’s going on, as all the characters are such douchebags. Plus, the show’s requirement for actors with visually-pleasing bodies means that the quality of performances is low. Down in the mud low. Tits though, right?! Sigh. People suck. Anyway, I’ll carry on for as long as possible. Maybe it’ll eventually give me something to give a crap about.

Right, I best go pick out a drum beat to record a song to.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

P.S. The title of this post is a reference to it now being too cold to have the windows open at night, which is pretty mandatory during the spring and summer months. I didn't have anything more creative to use, I'm afraid. Please send your suggestions for a better title on a postcard to...

To Live and Die in South Yorkshire

Well, after the usual stuttering start, the autumnal weather seems to be here to stay. Woo! I could do with a little more sunshine though, as the persistent rain over the past few days has started to get me down. Oh well, at least it keeps the scallies indoors and out of trouble. I haven’t had to call the police in, like, a week. Shocker!

My regular pub is finally reopening next week, after being firebombed a couple of months ago. I’ve been finding alternative drinking holes though. I paid a visit to the pub in the train station on Tuesday, which is actually one of the best pubs in town, believe it or not. A short and, if I may so, rather dull video of me sat drinking in there has, bizarrely, gone viral on YouTube. I’m really not sure what’s happened there. Either someone’s posted a link to it on social media, or someone died after pressing “repeat to infinity” on whatever device they were using. Go figure. Anyway, the video is below. If you can tell my which a hundred and forty (and counting) people would want to watch it, I’d be curious to hear.

That guitar luthier rang the other day to confirm the specs for my custom build. I emailed them to ask if everything was ok, as it was almost a month past their original ETA. Apparently it’ll be ready around the start of October, so…

I’ve been playing a lot of guitar lately, and even dusted off my tube amp. Transistor/power/solid-state amps sound better at low volume, which is good for me and my tiny council flat, but I thought I’d treat ma’self. Turns out, it’s only a 5 watt machine, so it sounds good at transistor level anyway. The popping/crackling problem returned today, which is why I stopped using it in the first place, but it only seems to be one particular guitar that causes it. I’ll run some tests.

I started getting pains in my tummy on Wednesday, roughly in the area that I believe my liver is. It wouldn’t surprise me if I have cirrhosis and, quite frankly, I deserve it. It’s been a long time coming. It seems to have eased off now, so perhaps it’s something else, but I’m keeping an open mind. Being disabled and clinically depressed, I’m not too keen on sticking around until old age so, if it is cirrhosis, I won’t be looking for medical treatment. I just hope it takes me in my sleep or, I dunno, while I’m watching Keith Floyd episodes drunk. That’d be nice.

I really need to do some housework, as some areas are getting rather, erm, brown. It’s good weather for it, as physical labour in the summertime isn’t pleasant. It can now be a cheaper alternative to putting the heating on. Although I’ll be using the boiler to heat the water anyway, so that doesn’t make sense. Sigh.

I’ll get my life together eventually.

Hobby-wise, I’ve not been into much apart from guitar practice. Oh, I did buy the South Park 1-5 boxset, so I’m slowly working my way through that. Very slowly. I remember watching it a lot first time around. It was that and Friends that teens in the 90s referenced the most. I also bought the Rick Moranis Little Shop of Horrors film and Ridley Scott’s G I Jane. I’ve only gotten through half of both but, so far, I’m not enjoying Little Shop as much as I expected (I watched it a lot on video when I was a kid), and I’m enjoying G I Jane more than expected (it’s one of the few Ridley Scott films I’ve never seen). What a strange world!

Speaking of friends, it’s all pretty quiet on that front. I’m texting the ex regularly, as she’s the only one I can hold a conversation with, but that’s about it. She usually complains about being tired, and I usually mention that I’m in the pub. We’re quite a pair.

I think I’ll order a takeaway tonight, although I’ll feel guilty about having someone deliver in this horrible weather. I guess they’ll be out anyway, plus I’ll give them a tip. Maybe I’ll double it today. I might go with a pizza/burger place. I haven’t done that in a while. I’ll have a vegetarian pizza to, you know, get my five a day.

I can’t imagine why I’m diabetic.

Fool of a Took.

Anyway, I just thought I’d fire a few words your way, so you know I’m still mooching around somewhere.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Love and vomit

While I’m sure it won’t last, this morning feels like the first truly autumnal day of the year. Proper grim northern weather. And so, of course, I’m very happy. But, like the weather, I’m sure the happiness won’t last either.

So, as you may have gathered from my last post, I did finally manage to venture out into town for a few beers last week. I don’t know why I felt inclined to show you that video as its own post (instead of waiting to include it in a text update such as this) but, hey, booze and all that, right? I guess I was just so excited about being out and about, even though it did end up being quite an expensive afternoon.

My first port of call was to pick up some prescription medication from my local pharmacy, after which I took a bus into the centre of town to draw out some cash (having forgotten to do so while picking up the meds). I then taxied back out to the first pub, which is inconveniently located on the outskirts of the city centre (before you get to he suburbs) on an industrial estate. Sheffield’s a big place, although deceptively not so “as the crow flies”. What might look like a mile-long journey in your head actually turns out to be three miles in reality. Everything in Sheffield is uphill. And then downhill. Then uphill again. So you just get used to taking more public transport than you usual would. When I first moved here, I was shocked when I saw people taking bus trips just to the next stop. But now I finally get it, and even do it myself. Anyway, the first pub was fun to visit, as I’d not been there in years (not including the lockdown). I used to do solo pub crawls around the centre of town, often starting or ending at that pub. Then I got lazy. While I never seemed to like the beer there, the building has this wonderful aura about it that I just can’t resist. When I’m there, I imagine I’m Bilbo Baggins retiring at Rivendell, with the grey clouds of reality being mere misty curtains hiding the valley walls of fantasy. Sigh. Wouldn’t that be great? For some reason, I just feel safe and at home there. I even took my top off in there once, which I haven’t done in public since… well… ever.

I kept all my clothes on this time though.

While the staff didn’t demand any social distancing (which can no longer be enforced legally anyway), they were sticking to card payments-only. I guess I should prefer that, as it saves having to use a cash machine (which I’m finding harder and harder to use nowadays), but it still feels weird doing so to buy just one beer. Oh well. After three pints of a stout, I suddenly felt nauseated. I initially shrugged this off, thinking maybe missing a week of medication was at play, but then I got that classic moist feeling in my mouth, which feels like your body lubricating your pipes for when the vomit comes. Lucky, I made it to the toilet in time, and ended up honking up into the bowl for a few minutes. I was fine with this (I mean, who doesn’t like a good purge?), but it put me in a weird headspace after, thus sapping my enthusiasm to continue my drinking session. I managed to down another couple of pints in there though (that video was taken BEFORE the deluge of puke), before making my planned journey to the next pub.

Since my regular pub has been the victim of an arson attack (it wasn’t burned to the ground, as I may have implied), I thought I’d go to another one of the three pubs around town owned by the same company. An extra incentive was that they’ve just opened a bottle shop/liquor store just next door, so I could pick up a few beers before heading home. The store is also run by that woman I went on a walk with just after the lockdown started last year and, while I seem to have been incorrect about this, initially hoped might be interested in me, romantically-speaking. Still, she’s very nice, and I thought a friendly “Hello!” and being supportive of a local company’s finances would count as my good dead for the, erm, year. If you see local pubs as charities, you feel a lot less angst-ridden about your alcoholism. I think I’d only been to the second pub maybe twice before, mainly due to its tricky location. Unfortunately, real ale pubs do tend to be in random places, necessitating either long walks or public transport fares. I took a taxi between pubs because I’d noticed a lot of regeneration roadworks around the area on the way to the first, but I sort of regret this now. I reckon I could have done the journey on foot. Maybe. Well, I turned up at the second pub’s door just after they’d opened at 3 pm, finding an adorably camp young man working behind the bar. I tried asking him about the fire at the other pub, but he seemed understandably tight-lipped about it all (and not just because he was wearing a face covering). I also tried my best to flirt, which failed. As usual. This pub were accepting cash, so my initial venture into town wasn’t a total waste of time. Not a great deal of note happened in there, so I’ll skip to the next bit…

Ta-da! Here we are, at the next bit. Well, the chat in the bottle shop with that woman was pretty uneventful too, as I recall (I was quite twatted by this stage). I got her to pick out a selection of twelve pale ales for me, which came to a depressing, but not shocking, £40-or-so. When you buy real ale cans from local breweries, you basically pay the in-pub draft price. Alas! But, again, I tried to see it as supporting a local charity.

I’ve just poured myself another coffee, as I’m struggling a bit this morning. Although I did wake up at 6 am after a full night’s sleep, which was a treat. Let’s see if we can keep it to that routine.

Right, back to my story. Oh… wait… I think that was all. After the woman was sweet enough to guide my staggering self out to the third taxi of the day, I sat in silence (another treat!) with the driver until I got home. Things get a bit hazy after that.

At least I know for sure that town is still there, and it was nice to get away from this shithole for a few hours. Fingers crossed I don’t have a vomiting fit the next time I pop out for a few drinks. My regular pub says they’ll reopen sooner than they initially expected, so I’ll keep an eye on their Facebook updates. At least it’ll save on taxi fares once they do.

Since finally sobering up on Sunday, I’ve just generally been pottering about doing my local hobby stuff. For no real reason at all, I’ve decided to watch the films I consider to be set in the “Alien universe”. Even though they’re not directly related by story/characters/filmmaker/copyright. These films are:

Dark Star (1974)
Alien (1979)
Outland (1981)
Blade Runner (1982)
Aliens (1986)
Hardware (1990)

So it’s been a hard science fiction few days, basically. Blade Runner is a bit of a stretch, but I imagine the Off-world colonies mentioned within the film include Hadley’s Hope and whatever the mining colony is called in Outland. I should really include the first season of Red Dwarf too. Hmmm. Anyway, after rewatching Blade Runner, I can confirm that it is still my favourite movie. There’s always something new to pick up on! If you’ve never seen it before, don’t watch it if you’re in the mood for an action packed sci-fi film noir, as it’s really a slow, atmospheric, philosophical drama about the fear of ageing, obsolescence, and death. The killer robot thing was really a secondary concern for Ridley Scott. Oh and I recommend the 1992 Director’s Cut. That’s MY version out of the four or five available. I might try watching the belated sequel again although, to me, it stood in contrast to everything that made the original great. Plus the re-conning bullshit was unforgivable.

Re-watching Aliens today, I've come to the conclusion that the marines perhaps should have done a few things differently. Mainly, they shouldn't have made their first act to all charge into the colony building to investigate. They should have taken satellite/aerial photos/videos first, then spent, like, a week on the Sulaco analyzing the footage. You know, searching for any signs of life they could from a safe distance. Then, if they'd found nothing, maybe they could have gone down and driven around the buildings with their motion trackers on, after which they still go back to the Sulaco to make further plans. Then they could have flown further afield to check out the broader terrain, you know, just in case the colonists had evacuated to an outpost of some kind. After this, they could have then used loudspeakers to hail anybody within earshot around the colony buildings. For hours, maybe even days, they could have called out to people, telling them to come out and meet the marines. By then, they probably would have disturbed and discovered the aliens and called Earth for backup. Or just "nuke the site from orbit". After all, it's the only way to be sure. I suppose there wouldn't have been much of a film if all that'd happened. Plus Carter Burke was probably influencing things negatively, prequel Sith-style.

Well, apart from movie watching, I’ve also been trying to keep up with my guitar practice. I’m still playing around with high gain metal tones, but I’m back to listening to alternative rock for pleasure now. I’ve not heard from my guitar guru since before my last two posts, but at least we’re back in touch now. I think I had a dream about him last night actually. A rude one. Which I’m fine with. One can’t have enough wet dreams, right?!

Speaking of which, I ordered some sex toys from an online shop last week, which all arrived Saturday morning. It’s masturbation stuff, of course, as partners are non-existent these days. It’s been my first ever try of a “masturbator”, which are basically just tubes of ribbed rubber inside a plastic pot that you wank with and into. It works though, as I’ve been having multiple orgasms. I’m usually just content with the one. I also bought a dildo, which was lovely, and a big bottle of silicone lubricant. I don’t like the water-based stuff, as it usually dries out within seconds and starts to shred my asshole or dick apart. Nice, huh? Anyway, I might buy new masturbators regularly as, even though I’m trying to clean it thoroughly after use, I’m guessing they get pretty gross and bacterial after a few goes. I also might buy another, slightly bigger, dildo. Not to replace the one I just bought, but to “heat things up” once the smaller one has loosened my insides. I do like my ass destroyed, I must say.

Well, on that family-friendly note, I think I’ll call it a day. Nothing much else has happened this week, apart from an incident with one of the tenants downstairs which I was going to contact the police about. I wasn’t involved, but I am concerned about their welfare. I may not even bother, as I don’t think it’s something the police can do anything about. I’ve written a report about it, which I may submit online. We shall see.

Right, yes, that’s all for now, folks.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

"Don't adventures ever have an end?!"