Tony The Pony

I was dead made up when Tony got in touch last night and asked if I fancied getting together at the weekend.

He said that it's only sex and it will mean nothing and that he loves his girlfriend and that I am not that pretty, but I figured that he lost all respect for me on Bank Holiday Monday knowing that I'd become a walking sperm-bank at Caras barbecew. So, I may as well shag him anyway and at least this time I might be awake and get to enjoy it.

Not heard anything from Lubin in ages. I think he might have found himself another girlfreind. Still, plenty more fish in the sea as the saying goes.

I just wish that there were a few more fellers that wanted me for something else other than my amazing deep throat tactics, a foofoo tighter than a new born baby's and an equal appreciation of front door and back door action. I guess its a bit much to expect them to love me for my mind as well.

Jay reckons I should go speed dating or put an advert in Bella in the lonley harts colum, but I reckon thats for losers. I just wish that something like Gaydar existed for us straight people too. I mean, if you could see a photo of someones wanger before you spent a dull night listening to them in the pub witering on about the payroll that they manage or seismic activity in Peru then you mite not waste so much time.

Mom sais I want the moon on a stick. I just tell her I want a bloke that goes like a train all night then turns into a Big Mac and supersize fries afterwards.

Laters x