Eating words (not my own)

Well. I asked for words and there were some provided. Thanks to Brechi for being brave and suggesting something first – your suggestion was very grown up and there’s tons I can work with there. Cheers, you’re a luv.

The rest of you are dreadful, naughty sex-mongers, peddling filth and hoping to get a peek under my skirts. We’ll see…

If you’ll allow me a little while to sort out what memento to discuss I’ll return to that in my next post. I’m not a hoarder so I don’t generally have lots of stuff that I’ve kept hold of but there are a few things. Brechi’s suggestion has also given me an idea for another post (maybe more) so it’s been a fun exercise for me.

Undershorts. Courtesy of GIL. Right – I can talk about that here and now. I’ve put the wrong ones on today. They’re more the kind I’d wear with jeans but with work trousers, thay’re a right pain in the arse – literally. The buggers are riding up something wicked and I’ve spent far too many minutes today wrenching them back into position. I jumped into them fairly quickly this morning too, failing to ensure safe and comfortable placement of all the equipment involved. It’s been a trouser tugging day I call tell you all. I love Aussiebums – soooo comfy – unless you’re wearing clingy ones under your work trousers… all that static build-up. Yikes.

My “early sexual experiences” – thanks for that CuteCTguy… Do you mean with ladies or gents?
I think I enjoyed them all! There has only ever been one time when I’ve woken up and thought “oh no… why the hell did I sleep with that?!”.
Either I’ve just been super lucky or my beer goggles have had an in-built moose-detector. That’s a bit unfair though because I actually quite like mooses (or should that be meese?!). Note to self. Visit Canada to see a real moose.
Of course I’m now REALLY lucky as I have TOH.

Ok. Next… “Hairy-chest”. This one from Monty. Cheeky usage of the hyphen to facilitate one-wordedness there. I have one (hairy chest, not hyphen). There you go. Enough said.
Ok ok. I’ve pondered the “should I wax it or leave it” question many times over the last few years. I personally love a hairy chest but I know that so many people don’t. TOH seems to like it and has one of his own. I do make sure I maintain the appropriate levels of body husbandry with regular trims though. I think I know how some of you feel about it but not sure about the rest. Chest hair that is, not my body husbandry.
Lots of my lady friends just don’t like it and prefer a smooth chest with baby soft skin. That’s kinda nice too – but my preference would be hairy.

Gee. Is that me done?

Also, please note that I've sussed how to do links. I'm nipping off to have a cinnamon mocha in celebration and to secretly glow with pride at my new achievement!

Empty

Heck!

It's been nearly forever since I last posted anything on my blog.

I'm a bit stumped. I don't know why but I'm seriously lacking in inspiration or motivation to do it. Not sure why that is as I've always enjoyed writing my blog.

I need everyone's help.

Just one word from readers may spur me into action. Whatever words are left as comments, I'll try and write something relevant about me and my experiences (past or present) for each word. I may even be able to link them to food!

One word each.

Ooh. I'm a bit excited....

Greek Yoghurt with Honey & Nuts

Why is it that stuff you eat on holiday tastes sooooo good but when you come home and have it, it’s all a bit of a let down?

Whilst in Mykonos I had the above a few times. It’s great – obviously I like it with as much honey as can be squeezed out of as many bees tiny behinds as possible. I love it. I’m just a bit worried that if I give it a go now I’m home I’ll be hugely disappointed.

Mykonos was terrifically lovely. I don’t think I’ve ever seen sea as deep a blue as it is there. It made me ecstatically happy sitting looking at it. There’s usually a bit of a stiff breeze in Mykonos too, so there’s always lots of little white caps on the waves.

Meeting up with our friends from Sydney also made me happy. I realised that I actually miss them quite a bit, as they’re great fun and so easy to be with. It was a real wrench to leave the island with them still there for a few days more. I had the worst case of post holiday blues that I’ve had in ages.

Hilariously, our Sydney friends invited their personal trainer along (men and women were swooning everywhere!) and they were all busy working out each morning with savage hangovers. I, on the other hand lolled about by the pool until everyone had finished and TOH had managed to haul himself from the bed and fill himself with paracetamol to numb the previous night’s excesses.

Then it was time for lunch – as I’ve mentioned in a previous post some time ago, there’s nothing better for lunch on holiday than a club sandwich. Haven’t got a clue why, it’s just the way of things. We’d then all pounce into a jeep and head off to the beach for an afternoon’s sunning and ‘meerkatting’ at attractive gentlemen. After much neck-ache inducing gawpery we retired, crispy-red, to the nearest beach bar for cold beer and possibly a few snacks to discuss where to go in the evening.

I think I’d like to be Greek. Well, for this week at least. Of course, I wouldn’t mind being Italian either. Or Spanish. French at a push. Mediterraneans are just soooo lucky. And so yummy!