Swansea Escort Abby

I can not even talk about the game on Saturday.

I spent the latter half with my face buried in a cushion whimpering ‘please make it stop…’

I have my opinions I will keep them to myself, it’s best that way else I might start knocking my head against the brick walls here and that will do my few remaining brain cells no good at all…

Roll on Saturday and bring on Scotland – I am ready and waiting and can feel revenge fresh in the back of my throat! I might have to go on pitch and show them how it’s done, we are playing home, it’s only a fast spin up the M4 - watch this space!

A huge thank you to my Monday morning booking who cheered me up no end. You know who you are Sir and it was my pleasure seeing you. Those chocolates you brought me were called exquisite and indeed they were exquisite. This was no box of Milk Tray. I fully and totally enjoyed them Monday evening and once again, a very happy birthday to you Sir, I am very happy you decided to make me your birthday gift to yourself. You were a star

As it is Tuesday, a thank you to my this morning booking as well, can’t leave you out, don’t want you to think I am biased! You were lovely also!

Okay, now to the header for this entry? Well, my sister, in her wisdom has decided that what her family needed most was a dog. A puppy. A cross breed springer/cocker spaniel to be correct. You know, a dog that likes to hunt, retrieve, a gun dog, no little pug dog for her, a full blown spaniel.

He is called Sprite and Sprite is INSANE.

Just 6 months old and totally, utterly and unquestionably bonkers. He does the usual things, chews table legs, eats slippers,  he loved the beef joint my sister bought for Sunday dinner two weeks ago, loved it! They all had fish fingers in the end…

He most especially likes to greet people he sees when out on a walk with a wag of the tail and a quick pee on their shoes, that is his all time favourite way to say hello to everybody.

I have learned when I go to my sisters now to stand by the gate to say hello to Sprite. Not to walk into the garden until Sprite has got so over-excited he does his pee thing, then I know it’s safe to proceed in.

To be fair to my sister, she is training Sprite in the way you should train a dog. We had dogs while we were growing up so we all know the score. She is working hard. It’s just Sprite is slightly touched in the head. Nothing and I do mean nothing will prevent him from attempts to conquer the bird kingdom.

A beach walk on Sunday – I thought it was a good idea at the time. It was a lovely, sunny morning, the tide was up, dogs are allowed on the Bay right now so why not accompany my sister and Sprite for a lovely walk along the front before home for lunch and more rugby on the telly? I know she said he has this slight thing about birds, but it could not be that bad, right?

Wrong.

Yelps, howls, shaking little dog legs. Barks, drags and pulls on the lead. It sounded as if we were murdering the dog. We were not walking this dog. This dog was walking us, hang on that is not correct -  This dog was dragging us towards this one sandy spot left on the beach after the tide had come in, the spot where all the gulls in God’s creation had decided to flock and Sprite wanted a bit of the action, blimey did he want a bit of the action! I have never in all my days heard a dog make such a noise. Howling and yelping and my sister? Hanging onto the lead at the owner end being pulled at, I would say, a good 5mph, along the beach going like this ‘Bad Sprite! Naughty Sprite. Sit! Sit! SIT!’

She walked home through the park that morning covered in mud from where she had tripped up over a lead entangled around her legs and landed face first in the mud as the tide was retreating leaving that lovely sand-sludge that it does.

I have never seen anything so funny in all my life. She walked with her head bowed somewhat, her normally fab blond bob looking rather tangled up and matted with muck. I can’t even tell you how her clothes looked without bursting into fits of giggles as I write this. She was beyond shamed. People were giggling as they went past and she was going ‘Yes, it’s funny, I know, look at the blond woman covered in mud, go on, all look….’ Hysterically funny. Sprite? An exhausted (finally) Sprite walking at last to heal by her side.

She told her husband upon return home that he was taking the dog out to the beach from now on. No amount of chicken treats and the ‘stupid bloody click training thing works.’ This dog is impossible. I give up.

If Sprite manages to remain still for long enough to get a decent photo of him I shall take one and post it up on here. To look at him, adorable. But to walk him? I would rather stick my head in a gas oven than go to the beach with Sprite again.

To round off this post I would draw attention to my front page and ask that, should you need a booking from Friday 12th to Friday 19th, please, as stated on the front page, book in advance. I have an extremely busy week coming up next week. I have deadlines to meet with my work (my other work ) As usual everything has been left till the last minute to get done as this work has kept me very busy. Pretty obvious which work I prefer to do as I will put this before other stuff! So it’s cramming time for me. I have to meet my deadlines. I am more than happy to see clients throughout the week but need to know my diary so I can plan ahead. This is only for a week so it’s no big deal. After the 19th, if you have an hour free in an hour, try your luck as you usually do! I can’t always do it but I try to. I know right now I will be unable to do an hour in an hour for the entirety of next week so plan ahead guys!

And fingers crossed for Saturday – I love a home match!

x

No, that’s not my father above, given the header for this entry and the picture up top, you might be all jumping to conclusions – my father does not look this mental – he looks FAR more mental than that!

Mae hen wlad fy nhadau yn annwyl i mi,

Gwlad beirdd a chantorion, enwogion o fri;

Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mâd,

Tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed.

To all non Welsh readers:

I know you all think we are bonkers in Wales but we can talk about you in a language you don’t know so beware! 

Yes, it’s that time of year again – I hope Gareth does not mind being posted up on an escorts blog but really, how mental does he look in this picture? I love it! That is the look we shall throw the English Saturday at 5pm – be afraid, be very afraid, we are mental idiots over the bridge who will chew you up and spit you out as cartilage!

Aside from me – I am lovely and you should all be rushing to book me now! I am the only sane person in Wales!

And when we crush the English with our mighty, uh, might… Then I will be the only sane person in Wales for sure! I will smile with quiet conviction when the rest of the country goes bananas and gets rollicking drunk while singing Tom Jones on the streets, clutching their bottles of beer, carrying their leaks and kissing their rugby shirts and that’s just the girl’s! You need to see the guys!

This is not an anti English post although it might seem that way – I will be the same as each week passes with every other side we play!

Come on Wales!

It is with the rugby in mind I inform all regular gents and any newbies that might be reading this and thinking, bottles of beer and a leak? I am booking her! To please book in advance for the next 6 weekends and avoid if possible, all game times. I am hooked on the game and have reserved my right to watch avidly. If your looking for a time when the game is on – it will still be on even if your here! I will not turn off the Tv, I will be watching it over your shoulder and when I scream out ‘Oh God! Yeah baby!’ It is more likely to be at a try than sheer ecstasy! I can’t even apologise for it – I do love the rugby!

Should we loose a game, I will be in need of severe attention to ease the pain! You have all been warned….

Happy six nations all! Good luck to those supporting the other teams as your going to need it – we are coming to get you all, be afraid, be very afraid…

x

 As we near the end of January I find myself in need of a weekend off.

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks here. A lot of great bookings, a lot of fun…  So far this year I have been blessed with great clients, the type that are funny, chatty, have not minded when I rose off the bed to go to the loo only to walk into the bedroom door on my way (I did not bruise Sir, I can confirm here that all I suffered was a diabolical case of the giggles at the time of the incident – no lasting after effects!)

Long may my favourite sort of client continue beating a path to my door – I adore bookings where you can have fun, a laugh, try to beat each other on the answers to the Great pop quiz on a certain morning radio show (I won! I don’t care what you say Sir, you can’t count!) Although, shouting out an answer whilst in the middle of appreciating me from a backwards perspective is guaranteed to get me into fits of giggles instead of fits of overwhelming lust…

To my client who happily allowed me to watch the end of the tennis match yesterday – and who was rewarded for such kindness with half an hour extra at no extra cost – I thank you! A winning morning all around, for Mr Murray and Mr Anonymous (I never divulge names!) I hope the extra time and the chocolate muffin you left with, plus the huge grin on your face for other services rendered got you through the meeting you had that afternoon with a chilled, relaxed smile on your face!

So, after the snow came the clients and what a lovely lot you have been the last 2 weeks.

This weekend I am taking a break, some well deserved and needed time off. I will do nothing more strenuous than hoover the house and potter about to some music. Of course, I will be up for brunch early on Sunday morning to watch the Assie Open Finals.  Federer is playing now as I type… It will be a Federer v Murray final – is anybody living in Australia reading this? Could you possibly pop down to the Open and kick Federer very hard in the shin? You’ll make one Welsh shiela very happy…

Again, sadly, I find myself asking anybody reading this and possibly thinking about getting in touch – please DO NOT TEXT ME.

I do not reply to you unless you are a regular client. And Gents, if your going to text me saying ‘Hi this is Pete – remember me? We spoke 4 weeks ago….’ Well, your on a hiding to nothing.

Do you have any idea how many Pete’s, Dave’s and so on I actually do speak to on a regular basis – I am sorry, I can not remember you. Your going to have to CALL me if you want to secure a booking with me.

Also, I need to point out what is made obvious throughout my site but needs saying again.

I am a MATURE escort.

I have taken 4 phone calls in the last 2 days alone from Gents looking for fresh faced, young beauty…

No, I don’t need a walking stick and a hip replacement but I am 37 years old – ancient, eh? Please, please READ my site before you pick up the phone.

I have a few wrinkles, I like to call them laughter lines but I am no map of a life lived (not yet anyhow – give me time and I am sure I will resemble my Great Grandmother eventually!)  Everything still points in the right direction and nothing wobbles where it should not, even so, I am 37 years old (see, I am repeating it) I am not 19. I have experience and personality wealth to give along with a good time but I can not give you a bounty of almost born flesh. I am not 19, I never will be again (Thank God).

I do wish though that those callers looking for a young lovely could not hang up so abruptly when I catch on they are looking for a youthful gal and I state I am 37 years old – I swear to God, what? Am I nearly dead then?

On that note, I am off to massage Deep Heat into my arthritically old bones, letting out  huge sigh of effort as I rise from my chair, I am going to stretch and moan (keep it clean there!) and complain that the cold is getting to me and go find my knitted old ladies cardigan to put on while I wonder how on earth I could have arrived at such an ancient age and cry into my chicken soup while I soak my teeth in an old plastic jar on the bathroom shelf before I then take my afternoon nap and think about going to buy my incontinence pads…..

See you on Monday when this old bird will be back with bells on after a weekend of R&R

xx

Are you stuck inside your house feeling cabin fever with every passing hour and knowing exactly how the Prisoners of Cell Block H feel?

Stockpiled your bread, eggs and milk yet?

Eaten that loaf of bread, toasted with hot butter and drank a gallon of tea?

Is hot chocolate suddenly looking like a great idea even though normally you would not touch it with a barge pole?

Got 4 pairs of socks on?

Found your hot water bottle?

Moved your chair right by the radiator?

Has your car/van/mode of transport gone sideways down a hill? Scared the bejesus out of you and made you vow to not go out again in this weather, not unless it’s a case of life or death and in that event – your ordering a taxi!

Have you watched A Touch Of Frost on the Tv (in case your not as sad as I am you will find it on ITV1 at 4pm on weekdays – a full length episode so your not wondering who did it for the rest of your life – you will know by 6pm!)

Do you long for the balmy days of rain, rain and yet more rain – because at least that was relatively warm and just wet, not icy? Are you cursing the day you said ‘I am so sick of this rain and grey sky! It’s time we had some sunshine now! I don’t mind the cold!’

Ahhh, yes… remember when that little chestnut flew out of your mouth? Well, now you mind the cold, don’t you!

Every service known to man has broken down… From your bin collection to your treatment in an A&E should you fall over and break your arm – what was (only!!) a 3 hour wait to get that arm plastered before has now possibly become an overnight camp-out. Be advised to take your own flask of soup as your going to be hanging around a while and the ladies of the WI have not ventured into the cafe for a while – you’ll get nothing at all from that little shop! Indeed, that arm could repair itself the amount of time your sat there waiting for the plastering nurse to call your name and lead you to the bucket of odd white stuff and the old rags they use to cover up your lovely arm to the elbow.

What has also broken down is the school system. And this is the whole reason for my posting this morning…

 

Firstly, to all you lovely clients that had booked this week and could not make it. Please don’t feel the need to apologise for it. I understand.

I am indeed, extremely thankful to those of you that took the time to actually get in touch and tell me you could not make it. There is nothing worse than me sat here waiting on you only for you not to show up! I appreciate the time you have taken to let me know, even the gent who attempted valiantly to get here only to call an hour before his booking  to admit defeat! Thank you for calling me and telling me. I hope you got back home safely.

 

In these circumstances, cancellations are common and understandable.  Nobody is going to rant at you for deciding to not venture out and cancel instead.

There is always next week (she says with her fingers crossed – I have seen the weather report for Sunday night!!) There is always the week after – In short, there is always another day so don’t worry at all about it. Stay home and remain without broken bones or a crashed or stuck in a ditch, car.

From my end of things. I have a small son – that is no news to my regulars. The pipes at his school have burst so whereas most schools seem to be back to normal today in Swansea, his remains firmly shut. This is hampering my ability to take incalls. It is not impossible – ring to ask but be prepared for a time that suits me not you. I have to get him to the childminder in order to see you.  My hands are tied, I can’t do anything about it. A bit of appreciation please for my situation and know I will do my best to see you, it is not a problem, it is simply a case of extra arrangements have to be made and that takes a bit of extra time.

Wait to see me! You never know, the wait might be worth it and the whole experience better for it. Anticipation – always a great thing!

 

I am not driving to outcalls late at night until this weather improves. Nothing is worth my car ending up upside down in a valley someplace – apologies to the nice gent from Pembrokeshire who requested a 9pm outcall – I won’t take the risk Sir. I am happy to come along in more friendly weather…

If you do catch me and see me, I have plenty of hot coffee and milk! My milkman it seems can battle through Siberian winds and North Pole like ice to deliver my 2 pints of semi-skimmed every other day! He’s a tough cookie!

I will warm you up in ways you can’t think about and send you along your way with aglow inside, think of me like your bowl of Ready Brek!

Keep warm and watch Jack Frost! I am off for a cup of that hot chocolate – hmmmm.

x

Not the most original of headers I grant you but how many other ways can one say ‘Happy New Year’? Really, think about it? Unless you speak another language and then it becomes interesting I guess.

You can’t say seasons greetings.  No glad tidings. No Goodwill to all men…

You could I guess say merry new year but it sounds really peculiar!

Punchy New Year to you Sir? That is bloody awful! I have actually heard that once and thought the guy that bounded into the establishment that was the near deserted pub on a quiet New Years day afternoon needed a punching to silence him – did he not know it was National Hangover Day? Cheery bloody sod!

It is bad enough you have to actually get up out of a warm bed and face otherwise not seen for 12 months relatives and eat a New Years Day dinner while feeling slightly green around the gills and in need of nothing more than a nurofen or four and another 5 hours sleep, without some bouncing, happy, full of life human in a pair of walking boots with a cane to hand (mountain climbing anybody?) gaily dancing about directly in your face! I actually felt a bit sea sick watching him walk about briskly and sway from side to side on that damn cane!

Yikes! Go away scary, happy, probably in bed by 10pm last night with a cocoa, person…. 

So, well, umm, Happy New Year!

 

Just to cheer us all up this New Year it did this here today….

Jolly good fun then!

Now. I watched the weather after the news last night and last time I checked, Swansea was South Wales. South being the key word here.

Not North and not East. South.

No snow for South Wales. Plenty up North though and some showers in the East…

Pottering about today in the house, I was smoothing down the clean sheets on the bed, deciding what underwear would be best for the day ahead, should any be needed, I get a lot of last minute calls… One minute I walked past the window and it was normal, green grass, some concrete, I could see my fabulous garden gnome (I don’t care what you think – Norman the gnome and I have a tremendous relationship come spring and summer. He’s a fantastic conversationalist when he gets going, many a seed planting has he kept me entertained and he has more sense in his little fishing rod than some humans have in their entire brains – myself included it seems!!) 10 minutes later I walked past the same window and it was white! Everything. It was falling in mammoth proportions and I was somewhat stunned. I could not see Norman anymore, he was gone, hidden under a pile of that white stuff. Blimey, fancy that…

 

I often wonder what the panic is when it begins to snow.

The school near my house could not get the little horrors out fast enough and why does every child insist on throwing snowballs the size of, oh, shall we say, France? At every passing car like it’s all a big joke (until a driver actually stops, opens his window and screams ‘come on then, start…’ in a really nasty tone of voice, then they all run away in their little school person’s uniform – the cowards).

Yes, the school threw them all out about 15 minutes into the snow falling. An hour later the sun was out, the sky was blue, the roads were clear and those teachers got an extended Christmas break.

I do not know if any more snow will fall. The schools might have been prudent to get rid of the kids now rather than say, 3pm should it start again but the chaos it creates? Total madness. Everybody with a child and a car was out on the road at exactly the same time, everybody, even the kids that normally walk it or take buses. Total traffic meltdown.

My mother was at the shops at the time and called me up shouting loudly ‘It’s bloody bedlam in Sainsbury’s. They are coming in, in their masses chanting ‘snow, snow, must get bread and eggs!’ I am going bloody home!’

Hmmm, that’s my mother for you. I bet she painfully elbowed others out of her way so she could go against the flow of feet coming into the shop as well – would not have surprised me if she got herself arrested you know, she can be quite ruthless when she wants something and this morning, she wanted to go home!

 

What is it about the desire for eggs and bread and milk when it snows? Suddenly, they are desired more than life itself! They are worth the risk of slipping and falling over, breaking your leg. They are worth driving in torturous conditions with a thousand and one other cars, their occupants hell bent on getting eggs, bread and milk…. When exactly was the last time we were snowed in for a fortnight and all nearly starved to death and eggs, bread and milk saved our lives?

 

Isn’t it very difficult not to panic when all around you are loosing their marbles!? You suddenly find yourself thinking ‘God! Really? They are going to get eggs, bread and milk? I should go as well then! I mean, they are all going, right? It is very important then! I have to go now… Right now… No, don’t stop me, I have to get eggs, bread and milk…’

I didn’t go.

I just saw the snow falling and thought ‘Well, that’s that for any work today then…’ Got on my dressing gown and long, to the knee socks (sexy, eh?) and settled in for another day of cruising about the Internet, trying not to do any clothes shopping while pretending I am completing my tax return and having another cup of coffee.

I hope it all goes by tomorrow. I have taken time off for Christmas and have missed my work I want to get back in the flow of get up, work out (yeah, right, that is always my intention but you know how bad good intentions can go…) shower, tidy up, take a booking, have my supper happy with the world. I miss the normal. I miss the routine. I want it back – go away snow immediately and this instant! I have a job to do and nobody comes to see me when it is snowing… Feel sorry for the first man that calls on me after the Christmas break and if this snow keeps up (if you are the first man my humble apologies beforehand) as I am going to be so starved for another adults attentions I am going to firstly talk your head off before I…. Enough said really…

 

I am indeed, as you have guessed from this post – back into the swing of things here. I wanted to say open for business, but really, how much inuendoe is there in that sentence for my job?

A most sincere Happy New Year to all my callers old and new. I hope it’s a very good one for us all.

Keep warm, keep safe in this weather and keep smiling – it will soon be summer and then we can all complain it’s too darn hot!

With much love

xx   (and cozy toes! honestly, try the knee high socks!)

Feeling a touch of the winter blues two weeks ago, on an impulse, I went online and booked a swift getaway.

A brilliant and fantastic time was had and I return back refreshed and raring to go.

 

I left on a dark, damp, dismal day and I returned on a dark, damp and dismal day. One look at the weather proved I had missed nothing while away. One look at my phone proved I had missed plenty – to all that tried to get hold of me, sincere apologies. Sometimes a person has to get away. I got away.

But I am back!

 

I have spent the weekend decorating my house with Christmas trees and all manner of spangles and sparkles, had a jolly good clean up and am happy to report, the phone is on, my brain is out of holiday mode, I have slept off the jetlag and I am ready to work again with restored vigour and a cheerie spirit…

 

One more reason why I love my job? What other job allows you two weeks off at the very last minute when you terribly badly need them? No boss to chastise me, no illness to have to make up to get time off and nobody at all to bother me while I lay about getting massages and facials and some very badly needed sleep!

 

I look forward to seeing my regulars again and I look forward to welcoming along any newcomers!

xx

No… That title is not a homage to Glenn Frey!

It is to let all Gentlemen callers know….. Notoriously tight as I am…. My heating is now on!

 

As all callers last week found out – I have put off putting it on till I can no longer justify the words  ‘let’s make our own heat Sir….’  Cold feet and even worse, cold hands have made me succumb to the bloody gas boiler and switch it ON…. So, for all you lovely regulars and for any new callers – it’s as cosy as toast in my abode now…. You do not have to keep your thermals on any longer! Abandon them with glee all who enter here…..

 

Today, my blog is hitting the serious topic of OWO (oral without) and CIM (come in mouth).

As anybody that has paid me a visit will know, both these services have been readily available up to this point.

It is with much regret I am withdrawing them as of date of this posting.

 

I take a lot of comfort from the fact I know my own mind and I am a healthy individual that respects boundaries and takes active steps to ensure not only I am safe but you, the client, are safe also.

I have considered my decision carefully and realise that a lot of prospective clients might be put off visiting me when they realise that both these services are now dead in the water.

 

My reason for withdrawing?   I am increasingly concerned by the amount of infections I hear are doing the rounds in this area. Indeed, not only this area but across the country.

Maybe it is due to the recession, maybe it is not, but, there are a lot of new ladies arriving upon the scene that are happily and willingly allowing bareback to take place in their bookings.

The nurse at the local GUM clinic informs me there has been a staggering amount of new escorts arriving for checkups and a staggering amount of them are needing treatment for infections.

This is due to them offering bareback services and it stands to reason that if a man will sleep with an escort offering this service, I am odds on to catch an infection by performing OWO and CIM if they then book me after her. You know how it goes – your not just sleeping with the person your sleeping with, your sleeping with their entire back catalogue!

 

I have never to date caught an infection of any kind and all my tests came back totally clear again this month.

However, the risk, that was once small, has now grown. There is more of a risk I will catch something nasty by performing these services so, I will not be performing them as of now.

My sincere apologies to all that have enjoyed this aspect up to this date and rest assured, there are ways to get a satisfying experience out of your time with me other than OWO or CIM.

 

There are a lot of terrifically good escorts that will still offer this service. I am in NO WAY putting the good escorts that offer this service down at all. We can each make up our own minds. That is our perogative!

I would however like to advise all gents to tread with caution when your booking an escort. If the lady is willingly and happily offering bareback, please think what else she might be offering up with it – Gonorrhea, Herpes, Genital Warts….  Need I go on?

You can catch STD orally, so even if your insisting on a condom for sex, if your doing OWO, you can still catch and pass on a STD!

I am not preaching at you guys. I know you all know the score. I am simply trying to explain my reason for withdrawing these two services.

At the very least you will know, if your booking me, your going to leave me healthy and happy!

If my decision puts you off visiting me, that  is totally okay. If you can’t respect my decision and understand my reasons for the decision, your really not the type of client I would like to see anyhow so nothing is at all lost for either of us!

 

I am off to purchase a lot of flavoured condoms!!!!

xxx

 

So, the clocks went back and the nights closed in….

I have got out my long, black coat and my long, black boots. The black stockings and the black lingerie… This is where the fun can really begin!

No more arriving for an outcall in a summery, floaty dress and sandals…  Now I can arrive under cover of darkness…. All the neighbours curtains are closed, everybody is ignoring everything that goes on outside their front doors… It’s time for some va va voom..!

It’s a good job my car has air conditioning and heats up a treat, as, come the winter, I like to arrive in my coat, boots and  lingerie, just for the hell of it and obviously, the ease of not having to worry about clothing is a bonus!

Beware all you gents – the season of darkness is upon us and I take no prisoners….

 

Talking about the season of darkness is a nice intro into my next topic. Halloween!

At Halloween, I like to turn off my lights, pretend I am not home and eat all the ‘treats’ myself!

Inevitably I am caught out by some child masquerading as superman (and that is a scary costume, how?) If they are under 5, I forgive them, really, the parents have no imagination. If they are  over 35 and standing on my doorstep dressed as Superman, I do have Cefn Coed on speed dial (I do not know why my Doc gave me the number of the local mad house but I am sure it was for a very good reason…?)

 

My sister’s kids? Right, may I please give out a warning to all the residents of Swansea. HIDE. Do not answer your door between now and bonfire night! Under ANY circumstances! It is not the meter reading man. It is not the milkman. It is not the paper girl – It will be my sisters kids, dressed up in Gothic finery which they will have personalised with tomato ketchup and if you do not give them MONEY not sweets, they will have a handy egg behind their backs or a roll of saturated (with water!!) toilet tissue to fling at you! Failing that, I believe they like water balloons as well…

Honestly, I am not kidding you. My sisters kids are little terrorists.  My sister, says, as she puffs up her chest ‘They do not swear, they say please and thank you and I always know where they are and what they are doing! They simply have spirit, that’s all….’

It is a comfort to know that the little terrorists of today will be polite before they throw an egg at you and their mother will always know they are there doing it!

‘Trick or treat Sir, please? No? Ok, thank you for your time….’ Hurls an egg at the poor unsuspecting man ‘Have a good evening….’  (Nice smile) And off they go to get the next door neighbour as they text their Mam to check in….

 

I always slip those sods a fiver each on the morning of Halloween day as it prevents them coming round here and frankly, just because I am their Aunt, it does not mean I am fair game!

I have informed my sister there are restraints available to purchase if she really, really needs to ground the buggers but as yet, she has resisted the urge to chain them up in the shed, something to do with EU Child Cruelty Laws she said – pathetic excuse if you ask me!  I mean, really, who is going to know? Gag them as well and they can not scream out for help!

I have told her as well, if they scream out loud ‘My Mam has chained me up and locked me in the shed’ The neighbours will either rejoice or ignore what they have heard on account of the fact they regularly open up their bedroom windows and bellow ‘somebody call childline – she’s making me take a bath….’

My sister’s husband, the poor, long suffering guy, well, he tries his best but really, my sister is a tool short of a full box herself and as she is currently going through the menapause (all thank God she can not produce more children!) So he is currently sitting in a house with fans going full pelt, sleeping on the floor I am informed as she needs all the bed to herself (kicks like a mule apparently) and providing tissues at the rate of ten trees downed a day to mop up her tears.

He likes the pub, does my brother in law. He really likes it there….

I am being unfair really, he’s a great guy and he really is taking care of my sister right now. Thank God. Because frankly, those nephews of mine would have me sat in a chair babbling mindless rubbish if I spent more than an hour with them!

One more fake spider posted through my letterbox and I will commit real murder this Halloween…. It’s NOT FUNNY.

 

I myself, will not be celebrating this Halloween. I am having a nice, quiet time of it (I have informed my family I am going on a short break therefore can’t possibly be at the family get together this year!)

I am very into my work right now, I am enjoying my clients and my time with them so I will be working (should the phone ring) right through from now until Christmas Day! This really is my favourite time of the year to work. All the darkness outside seems to do the opposite to me than others – it revs me up rather than slows me down! So, it’s all guns-a-blazing! I do like my job

Take care all

x

 Ohhh, boy! Well, I have had the cold virus!

I can only apologise whole-heartedly to clients that tried to contact me the last week only to get my answer phone and no call back at all or to those I had booked in and had to cancel on.

 

So sick have I been that I thought at one point, it might be kinder to treat me like the dog I felt and put me out of my misery! You know, just one shot in the arm and I could sleep for eternity, floating happily on a cloud of pure white marshmallow mush, in a state of total bliss and harmony in the land of nod…..

 

I had to have a doctor out on Saturday! A real Doctor in my house for the reason of sickness not for the reason of naughtiness! Can you even believe that? Had to check I did not have swine flu! Well, in reality, my sister had to call a doctor to check I had not got swine flu as she was starting to look about the house for something she could use for a mask before she brought me fresh water and tissues!  

 The doctor arrived, some geezer I have never seen before in my life and I proceeded to die quietly the death of those that like a clean house – then get sick so can not clean and a stranger pops around, walks into your bedroom and bathroom both of which had not seen a duster for 5 days never mind a spray of air freshener or clean sheets! Ohhh, God, the shame….

 

Still, no swine flu here! A common cold he said, rather irritated at being called out, for what he saw as, no good bloody reason!

That is testimony to how rare it is for me to get sick! I rarely get so ill I think I might die easily! I rarely get colds or the common ailments that seem to knock others flat on their backs – when I do get sick, all around me fly into a high state of alert and panic and go calling in doctors when there really is no need…

 

Still, my sister is over the fanning herself madly with a paperback as she tries to ward off her menopause symptoms (apparently made worse by my being ill!?) has decided a face mask is not a must have item upon entering my home and is smiling again (now I am able to put my own trash out!)

 

I have had the torture of watching day time TV for the last two days as I regained my strength – Please, God, no more! I am ready to go back to work!

My phone is on, I am no longer infectious with the cold virus and apart from the occasional sneeze and/or cough, I am raring to go…

 

Thank you kindly to all that graciously accepted my cancelling of bookings, you shall surely be rewarded when you re-book!

Have a great week all.

xx

I was going to suggest throwing those conkers at Harriet Harman but I am more a love and peace kind of gal than a throw conkers at a pillock sort!

 

Poor down-trodden me, eh? Forced into this lifestyle for cash and no doubt pimped to within an inch of my life! I am probably hooked on all kinds of drugs and spun out off my head by 2pm each day. I never take good care of myself and am a shocking example to society! Quickly! Find me the nearest straight jacket and chastity belt with the strongest lock possible! I need reforming and then some…..

And as for you men that hire me – shame on you! Your terrible, terrible people –  we shall end up in chains for our sins when our time comes and we stand before our creator….   (Actually that sounds a bit kinky but perhaps that proves Ms Harman’s point – there is no hope for me or you….)

 

Oh dear… The ignorance on some people in so called ”intelligent” jobs really rather startles me at times you know.

I am going to stifle a yawn here and repeat what I have said a million times over….

I am not pimped.

I have never touched a drug in my life.

I do not drink anything stronger than coffee!

The only way I get spun out by 2pm is if I have been dancing to some 80′s pop song while cleaning and have jived about rather too much than would be considered sensible for a person in a pair of high heals and, generally, little clothing!

I like my job.

I am good at what I do.

I provide for myself without needing to drain the benefits system.

I contribute valiantly to the condom industry not to mention the knicker industry!

As for you charming and deserving gents that book me and pop along to the various sites that advertise me – don’t be put off by Ms Harman. Personally, I think she needs a good lay and am sure if she browsed some of the adult sites very carefully, she would find somewhere a suitable male to show her what it’s all about….

One more thing to add here before I skip off to my bath and attempt to make myself pretty for my caller this afternoon…..

If this job I do and the men that pay for me to do the job disgusts this Government so much, why are they more than happy to take my taxes off me? They are profiting from my work. I do not hear the words ‘No! We can not do that. It is ”immoral earnings and we shall not be privy to such a thing…”

Keep getting your backhanders from me Ms Harman, they are after all, paying for your second home and clothing and petrol allowance… If your prepared to take what I earn in the form of tax then shut the moaning up and concentrate on really matters in this world. Go pick on the paedophiles, the muggers, the rapists, the burglars and the corrupt MP’s

And leave my clients alone. They have more integrity in their little fingers than any member of any Government this country will ever have.

xxx