Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Three In A Bed...
Now you know I’m not one to be a bitch but after bumping into my super stud ex who had a six packed, bulging biceps and an even bigger bulge some where else I couldn’t help but smirk after seeing he now obviously keeps his six pack in the fridge. Now he hasn’t put on a little bit of weight, he’s fucking inflated like a hot air balloon. He’s obviously eaten the contents of Charlie’s chocolate factory, the Umpa Lumpas must have feared for their lives.
Its fare to stay we didn’t have a very amicable brake up on the account that he cheated on me for several months behind my back. We have actually spoken since and become friends courtesy of FaceBook. It wouldn’t be fare of me to reveal his name so let’s call him Gareth, because that’s his name. He was a compulsive liar and money grabbing twat. I was a young naive seventeen year old when I met him and worked hard to pay off his credit card. He was very generous, buying me gifts with my money, that sort of person you know.
It would be fare to say that there was a point that I found myself crying into my Chinzano and lemonade whilst playing my Chicago soundtrack. I know the soundtracks not very sad but I found it helped to smash up his Titanic collection with a beat.
When I bumped into him last Manchester Pride my eyes almost exploded at my first sight of him in four years. He’d turned from a straight acting macho man to a vile camp obese queen. I had heard on the grape vine that the person who he had cheated on me with had put him in hospital several times. I don’t condone violence but there was something so bitter and sweet about that.
Several times we’ve bumped into each other and he’s felt the need to boast where he’s going on his holidays. The fact that I’m cabin crew and have travelled the world had obviously escaped him. Just recently, this morning in fact, I bumped into a mutual friend of ours who told me he was going to Australia today for two weeks. It was followed by a statement that he hadn’t paid for it. Needless to say I wasn’t shocked at all. Now he had told me he was going down under several times, which is fantastic and good for him, however, the way I have been brought up you should never brag or boast about something you haven’t earned.
Just a few short months ago messages were also exchanged that he was deeply sorry for what he had done to me and that if he wasn’t in a relationship he’d love to fuck me again, shortly followed by pictures of his cock, I have to admit I returned the favour. I’ve met his new fella he’s no oil painting at all, more of car crash, but still no one deserves to be deceived like that. Which leads me to this statement; once a cheat always a fucking cowardly bastard money grabbing wanker of a twatting cheat. Just for the record I wouldn’t touch him with a shitty stick and yes I do feel like I’ve had a lucky escape.
Don’t get me wrong I’ve not always been an angel. Hard to believe I know. I have cheated once on a partner but at least I had the sense to do it whilst I was a twelve hour flight away in Cape Town. I’d like to say I regret it but I don’t, the sex was amazing, and so was the wine and my boyfriend at the time turned out to be cheating on me too.
I think I’ll give relationships a miss for the minute, however if you know anyone who wouldn’t mind a fling let them know where I am, it’s been a while since I’ve been flung.
Now ladies and gentlemen I ask you to please go and click on that big shiny BloggersAward banner on the top left hand side of this site and take five minutes to vote for Handbags’n’Botox in the best entertainment category.