Frequent dogs, catch fleas!!

I am itchy!!! I am itchy and scratchy and covered in bites. Little bites, big bites, nasty bites! I'm being feasted on by little demonic creatures festering in my bed every night. Somebody help me!!! There is no escape from this hell! I am trapped at mother-in-law's (MIL's) and there is no way out.
I am stuck in the world of the good daughter-in-law.
I show respect to MIL, smile and nod and strive to find things we have in common and to always remain positive. I couldn't do otherwise even if I wanted to. MIL is the kind to snap back at the slightest disagreement. God forbid I should cross her! Her fixed cold stare and sharp jagged-edged voice would soon put me in my place. The attitude I've therefore adopted is one of placid smiles, docility, helpfulness, showing my best side and trying to draw out hers! Anything to keep the peace! Not worth being in her bad books ever!!

Anyway, I was talking about my itch! FLEAS!! That's what's causing it! They're everywhere but I can't see them. Just their nasty bites. And their wonderful carrier is none other than MIL's darling dog. He can do no wrong in her eyes. He has his own TV seat, his own rug, his own sofa. We just need to live around him. And now he has his own pet fleas! He scratches all day long. MIL says her poor love has ECZEMA!! She is completely oblivious to his infestation - and to my pain!
I'm rubbing in creams and potions - nothing seems to help!
Back where I'm from, we have a saying : frequente licien, ramasse pices! Meaning, hang around with dogs (bad company)  and you'll get fleas.
And here I am, living the saying!
Oh what to do? There is no way out and it's too late to change my train ticket home!!
Here I'll sit until then, itching and scratching. Thanks to my poor frequentations, I have turned into a flea-infested dog.

Sex blogger? Moi?

It's official,

I'm on Twitter and I dish out sex tweets. Yes, Me!!!

The conservative, previously prudish, traditionalist, who thought as a teenager that sex with one person after marriage for ever was the right way and the only way!!!
Wow, how we all change with age and experience.

Well, I am after all a sexual health professional. I examine people below the belt, all day, every day, literally!!! It's fun and satisfying to be able to delve deep into other people's sex lives and inform them about sexual health. It's the perfect job for me - I've a face to make people want to tell me their most secret issues. I'm a great agony aunt!
It's following my own advice that I'm not so good at.

Anyway, my tweets are going great so far. Only a week in and 11 followers already!

Why did I do it?
Well, it never ceases to amaze me how little people still know about sex and sexual health. SexEd is everywhere in schools, sex is everywhere on TV, yet we in Britain still prefer to leave our blindfolds on and follow only our lusty instincts. Nothing wrong with lust, but hey, need to keep safe too!  So now I'm tweeting, tweeting about sex and fun sex and safe sex and celebrity sex, all in the hope to inform, open eyes, allay fears, improve sex.

So wish me luck, off I go tweeting about more sex.

London burning

Tonight I sit in my flat, anxious at the sound of  police sirens outside. I have used up my last teaspoon of sugar, so my next cuppa will be a bland one as my nearest shop has unexpectedly closed early due to the riots.

I watched in horror last night as the news broadcast a constant stream of images of masked youths pillaging and plundering and vandalising as police officers merely formed a line and watched on.

Why it should be right that vandals be allowed to burn building, smash cars, loot shops in full view of the police with no action at all taken to stop them. Why is the police not able to protect these businesses? Why should the livelihoods of innocent people be allowed to be destroyed while the police look on?

Where are the strategies to disperse crowds and prevent such actions? Where are the water cannons, the teargas, the armoured vehicles, the tazers? Where are our police? Why are our police not being given powers against these despicable louts? Why have our police been castrated? 

When did our media turn into such biased, edit-heavy, money-hungry agencies where news makes the headlines because it sells? One minute the police aren't doing enough, one second the police are being too heavy-handed. The press have contributed to the contempt held for the police. Why do they never ask the right questions? Watching the news channels is like watching some strange elaborate dance around the real issues and questions - nobody seems to want to talk about the elephant in the room!

What about our politicians? Theresa May should step down for her weak handling of the situation. Why are we on Day 4 of the riots? How long will this go on? How long will our laughable Government politicians, our Prime Minister included, continue to make their empty speeches about taking action and ACTUALLY TAKE ACTION? Why do I not believe them when they say that those responsible will be severely punished?

I despair. I despair.

Something needs to be done. Enough is enough. Give the police back its powers – and do it properly. Unlawful police acts should be thoroughly and transparently investigated and punished accordingly. But the police must otherwise be allowed to do their job.

Living the high life in Mayfair

We are in a Mayfair Pub. Meeting up for drinks with a friend. Silly husband and the friend have been drinking all afternoon (teachers on half-term, figures!) and I've just met them after a hard day's work.

Needless to say, they are worse for wear! Most of what they say makes no sense whatsoever and silly husband tries to grope me as I walk in. I buy dinner as I've not bought drinks (so femme libérée of me!). Silly husband eats half of it, then goes off to the loo rubbing his tummy ominously. Friend leaves in the meantime to attend to his beloved wife stuck with the baby at home.

Twenty minutes later, silly husband comes out of the loos following a posh-looking dude. They are talking about dry-cleaning bills and posh-looking dude is holding his suit jacket at arm's length. Oh no! The realisation of what just happened hits me. They go out of the way to exchange details. Turns out silly husband managed to barf all over posh guy's suit in the loos.

We leave the pub together, with me trying to appear as nonchalant as possible (and failing miserably). Silly husband tries to hold my hand as we walk away quietly. I resist. He strides off leaving me to make my way home alone. Turns out he was too embarrassed to walk on with me.

I'm so angry! I'm so embarrassed! He is so annoying! And so cute! I love him...!
This will give me ammunition for years!