Thursday, 24 January 2008


A lot of things happened today. And what I'm going to say is going to make my life sound rather glamorous, but it isn't. It's just that I received my monthly salary from dear old dad a couple days ago and I had no class today.

I went to RoeActive, my university's newly opened gym; the one without any ab machines in a predominantly female institute (WHAT IS THAT?!) I sat on a bike with a copy of 'This is the Beat Generation' reading about artsy people cutting off their fingers with garden shears because their gay lover lived a separate life of modelling and prostitution, and because they lived next door to each other, he could hear him fucking other people (William S. Boroughs). I looked up two large chapters later and saw that an hour and 160 calories had passed. COOL!

Then I rolled around on the floor for 20 mins. with an exercise ball trying to make up my own ab exercises. I hit the weights next. For some reason I couldn't manage for long with the 5lbs. I have never used 5lbs that felt like 10. I stuck to 3 (or RoeActive's 5lbs) and learnt that for several months I had been doing my lunges wrong. GREAT!

I rounded everything off with 20 mins. on the treadmill grooving to Britney Spears. I knew, then, that two hours of gym work deserved a trip to Starbucks. At Sbucks now, I sat there reading a stack of those weekly pop culture mags.

NOW LISTEN! An article talked about a woman's partner getting more and more sexually frustrated because she became too tired to have sex nightly anymore. She didn't understand why he was getting so upset. It wasn't her fault she was exhausted after a long working day. He explained to her that she had been waking him in the night with her heavy moaning and squirming as she masturbated. Seeing this, he then became aroused and tried to initiate sex. And she would shrug him off. The next morning she would have no recollection of it, only wondering why her vagina felt slightly sore the next day. Turns out, there are people out there who sleep masturbate! With orgasms too!

SO! After that, I decided to head home. Boy was I in the wrong place at the wrong time; the bus stop at 5pm. I can't tell you how many packed buses flew past my hollering hand. And when I thought one bus driver was gonna stop and pick me up, he merely slowed down to admire me in my sportswear and wave! But I managed to squeeze onto a number 72 about an hour and a half later (!!!!) so no worries.

Learn the right plunge when you lunge
Try sleeping with one hand in my trousers
Don't get stuck at a bus stop at 5pm if you really fancy going home.

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