Tuesday, November 28, 2006

The Email Trilogy: Abusive Mothers, Snooping Chums, Crap Women

1) I got an email from my Mum today. She chose to send me a homoerotic calendar of extremely buffed and overly Photoshopped Rugby players barely covering their genitalia with towels, hands (their own) or, inexplicably, a turtle.

I'm still not sure why she thought I'd like that.

She was kind enough to comment that I was better looking than all of them.
She then followed this up by saying 'Oops - just tripped over my white stick!'

2) This afternoon, Ali emails me to say he's discovered my blog and can he read it. I thought I was being cunning by refusing to tell people who actually know me my website address. I didn't consider anyone being cunning (or that bored at work) to put in some very specific key words from our Brighton Weekender into Google.


3) Most irritating of all, my ex-girlfriend from NY (Ex because she lives there and I live here and we'd have to travel out to see each other until she became so involved that I felt it best to nip things in the bud this May because the whole thing wasn't practical) is coming to London over Xmas. I was pretty happy about this.

Ok, very very happy about this.

You see, Large Northern Flatmate won't be here, so there's an empty apartment, a larder full of chocolate, Christmas television, and the local bars and restaurants of West London at our disposal.

Plus lots and lots of sex. I've been thinking about that a lot.

I can't lie. Ever since she emailed me her arrival dates and said 'Let's meet up for a curry', I've more or less been walking on air with a perpetual grin. We were a good couple. We had great sex. Everything was brilliant.

Apart from the distance and her keenness - the two seem irreconcilable.

But still, the key word here is brilliant. This Christmas was starting to look brilliant...

Until an hour ago.

An email ~ Her new English boyfriend will be here too. He lives in NY though, so there's actually a future for the pair of them, although there won't be if my sexplans for that weekend were ever carried out. She had conveniently neglected to tell me about his visit. She had told me several weeks ago that she was dating a Brit, but sounded decidedly pessemistic about the whole affair.

But no, apparently she's getting used to the idea of him and thought she'd pop in and say hello to me while they swan about London as a smug fucking couple JUST LIKE WE WERE BEFORE I BECAME A TYPICAL BLOKE AND BAILED OUT.




Anonymous said...

I believe that's scheisse; you forgot the c. Oops... timing, right.

Fweng, I love your mum. I think I want that calendar.

On the other hand, I most decidedly don't love your NY ex. That was really cold. However... perhaps seeing you in person will make her think twice about the new beau.

Fussy Bitch said...

Think? I know I want that calendar! :-)

Fwengebaby, if you won her back you'd still bemoan your lack of sex. Long distance relationships are just as frustrating plus you feel bad when you flirt.


Shoshana said...

You could hire a really hot chick to bring with you when you see your ex. It might even come with side benefits. Just a suggestion.

fwengebola said...

Thank you all for your comments and spelling corrections. Nah, if anyone's being cold, it's me. I was told in no uncertain terms that I dumped her and I can't demand we get back together now she's met someone else and blah blah blah, etc.

But it's early, I've just woken up, and I have to put my head in the oven...

Anonymous said...

You knew she wasn't going to wait around forever. In fact, we've spoken about it at length. You'll just have to accept that it is over, donate your genitals to science and move on!

fwengebola said...


Anonymous said...

Fweng, please don't donate your genitals to science! Those poor Photoshopped rugby calendar boys -- we both know that they could use the donation: "barely covering their genitalia with towels" -- Ha! They'd give anything for what you have!

Anonymous said...

Had another idea about this. The last time she phoned you, you told her that she should find a hotel and not to expect sex whilst here. If I'm not mistaken, wasn't this about the time she started dating her Englishman in New York? You scuppered yourself by trying to play the gentleman, and she is now rubbing your face in it by bringing him along. Mate, don't meet her. Say you are busy working or something.

Mikey said...


(1) Meet her and the interloper and be so fucking charming and (at least apparently) successsul that you throw him into a very poor light and even though you will still never get back with her you will defnitely make this cock-blocker's life hell for a good couple of months, if not indefinitely.

(2) Meet her with a red-hot Russian hooker you have paid to pose as your wife and engage in (actually very expensive) public displays of affection which will pierce your ex's heart like an assassin's ice-pick cause her face to crumple with despari. An image you can remember as you are humping away joylessly but expensively later that same evening.

(2a) Especially if you get everyone drunk and successfully suggest a sordid foursome.

(3) Swerve the whole sorry affair, explain that if you aren't ever going to have sex again there's no point in a painful charade of friendship and go and see Casino Royale again instead.

Any help?



Pub lunch. Got carried away.

fwengebola said...

LFM - Are you assuming I'm hung like a Blue Whale with an excessively big cock in the Whale community? In which case, thank you beyond belief. I will neither agree or deny that one.

Anon, I mean The Hobo. I don't think I was being a gentleman, I just think I was trying to clarify things for a lady who used the L word on me. With I and You either end. Thus, I turned petrified and didn't want to hurt her. (Again)

Brother Michael - I fear I have over-egged the pudding, particularly vis a vis and apropos the last couple of paragraphs of my post. I'm afraid that I'm pretty much 100% the bastard here. She loved me, she told me so, I freaked, and then I ignored her (more or less). She then tells me 6 months down the road that she's coming to London, I think Boing, as is a Sexually Denied Moron's Wont, then adds that she's avec Homme.

Although, bizarrely, they're travelling a few days apart and she's not even hotelling with him. She's confused, I'm confused, and I feel awful for her beau, to the point where I don't want to have sex with her (if she'd let me, of course), completely damage things with them, and steadfastly go back to being too poor to see her in the States.

I am too moral, I overthink, and as a result my entire genetalia are retracting back into my body a la foetii.

Pub lunch, you lucky slag. I don't even get lunch.

Anonymous said...

Well, yes, actually, I do choose to believe that you are happily and well hung, Fweng.. leave me with my little self-deceptive fantasies please.

But what I was really saying was that the poor rugby players are likely hiding something (or nothing -- that's the point)when they cover their genitals (or lack thereof) in the calendar photos. Any kind of donation, even from whales, would likely be appreciated.

Well, that was much sillier than it started out to be.

luna said...

She 's only trying to make you insanely jealous so as to Get You Back, can't you see it ?

As for your dear Mum, how sweet of her to share with you her taste in artistic nude ! She deserves some enjoyment too you know!hahaha

Han said...

I know it's horrible to say but I really hope I am in her shoes in a few months to come...my boyfriend and I had a great relationship, were best friends, had great sex etc and he did the same to me...how I would love to tell him about my new boyfriend! Evil cackle!
That said, I do feel sorry for you as it seems you were trying to do the right thing by her.

fwengebola said...

I'd recommend finding that new boyfriend as a pairing of likeminded souls rather than revenge, personally.

And YES, I was trying to do right by her. I am basically perfect.