A Smile Is The Best Fashion Accessory!

Afternoon, 

So after last weeks torturous and slightly S&M evening with Mr. Masseuse (No Pain, No Gain! - If you haven't read it you need to .. Its Hilarious!!!) I was glad of a somewhat mundane week at work with an uneventful weekend to follow. 

I was not however looking forward to the dentists appointment though. Several weeks ago I had gone for my first check up in over seven-years since I left school, aged sixteen. Terrified as a child after having some surgery and not being given enough drugs to knock me the fuck out I woke half way through the procedure and with eyes flashing wildly to gain the attention of the dental staff I was otherwise paralysed, forced to watch and feel as they drilled and burrowed into my tiny mouth. 

Another reason why I was so frightened of the Dentist as a teen was mainly because the appointments always seemed to crop up on a Wednesday or a Thursday - The days I used to finish school early and meet the boys after school for some more "advance classes" and "extra tuition" if you follow my drift. So scared I was of getting caught in the act I would rush home after one of these "sessions" and brush my teeth in a bid to rid my mouth of any evidence. I don't know why. I was like fifteen and thought that the Dentist would peer into my mouth and turn to my mother and say 
"I am sorry but it looks like your daughter has been sucking dick. What do you propose we do with this then, Hmm?" Genuinely scared, even as I sat in the scary leany-backy chair that they would look at my pearly whites and see residue of something that shouldn't have been there. It humoured me slightly to think that when I was lying in a similar chair on Saturday Morning. 

Preparing myself I had already called the surgery in advance and asked about the procedure and what would happen, what would be done and what I should bring. Of course I knew all the answers myself and in all honesty could have easily saved not only my time and lunch break but also my dignity, especially when I asked if someone could come in and hold my hand. And yes, just to remind you I will be twenty-four in nearly a months time! 

Saturday morning I awoke and rolled over to a bemused Mr. Warehouse. 
"What exactly is so funny?" I asked croakily through tousled bed hair and blurred vision. 
"Today is the day!" Mr. Warehouse chirped and after asking what he was on about a shuddering noise rang through me, knocking out any hope of a cheeky lye-in. It was Mr. Warehouse - Making drilling noises and humming the Jaws theme tune. And as he nonchalantly laughed off his lad-ish "banter" I secretly made a mental note not to place anything in long and hard in my mouth other than a toothbrush before 9am. 

Getting up and dressed I bought time by Googling pointless things of interest like Puppies and John Wayne Gacy paintings (If you haven't seen them or even know who he is then I give you permission to seek out your inner sicko and Google this man and his heinous crimes) - Yes I have a fluctuating mindset sometimes. Nevertheless it was soon time to leave but as I made my way out of my flat, followed shortly by Mr. Warehouse I was yet again greeted by the deathly hum's growling form Mr. Warehouse's voice box, of which I was very close to ripping out. He was not very nice to me that day!

Arriving at the surgery, again like the last time I visited it was baking hot and I was thankful for the empty waiting room and friendly receptionist. Unlike last time I came for a check up, whereby I was over forty-minutes early because Mr. Warehouse had rushed me out the door, I only had a few moments to wait before I was called for. And so, up the wooden staircase I ascended, dramatically thinking as I always do that I may never return and I somehow may meet my death in a Sweeney Todd Style Murder a la Dental Practise. But as soon as I walked into the room and was greeted with the same, slightly foreign and overly-made-up dentist I was at ease - slightly!?

As the chair reclined once more I opened my mouth wide and stuck in my headphones with a preplanned playlist consisting of mostly club but certainly all loud songs ranging from guilty pleasure hit "Don't Call Me Baby - Madison Avenue" to the 2003 smash "Milkshake - Kelis" and even a new favourite of mine "Gimme Head - Shystie" which is vocally, erm, interesting, but more importantly would definitely take my mind of Miss Tooth-Decay drilling away in my moush. But as I felt the prickly jab of the needle going into my gums, flooding my mouth with local anaesthetic, I tried to relax. Liking the fact I had already put together a compilation of my favourite tunes for my impending doom at the Dental Surgery. I even got a chance to relax enough to tap my toes to a few beats. I had somewhat even started to enjoy the drilling sensation and started to play silly games like running away from the mini-sucky-thing they use! 

But before I had even got a chance to get to some of the better song on my playlist of pleasantness the chair was re-clining back up to an upright position. Taking my headphones off my ear holes I asked if that was it. My kind Dentist friend nodded and went on to say how well I did. "I wonder if I am going to get one of those overly-sized stickers for being such a good girl today?" I thought to myself as I listened to her saying something about flossing more. Woozy from the injections and sudden, unexpected right-angle position I found myself in I exclaimed that I felt like a cat, feeling my swollen face and cheeks, checking that I didn't in fact look like a balloon. Thanking my Dentist and nurse I exited the room and descended the stairs, without the body bag and still very much alive. As I turned into the main staircase there he was, Mr. Warehouse, waiting patiently for me with a concerned yet proud look on his face. I knew he had not been there for the full time I had been in but I appreciated the little white lie he told me, despite not being able to uphold it later on when questioned. I made an appointment for February next year and promised to see them soon. I don't know if I will go in six months for sure, but rest assured I am slightly less scared of the Dentist, although I am not fully cured. I will now be on my way to alleviate any more worry and have a giggle by Googling tooth fetishes and dental depravities. Good Night Mon Frere's!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Halloween Sparty

Morning All, 

I hope you are all well and dandy. I know I am, especially after the weekend I have had! Now after last week's entry I felt again a little unstable as to what, why and how of my blossoming romance with said Mr. Cheese, although I know that when the time is right maybe things will finally be planted in the pot to grow and nurture. In the mean time though I might as well carry on living my life as a half-single twenty-something; partying, hanging out with friends and family, enjoying life and seeing whats on offer. 

All week at work was a slog as usual, consisting of some very, very slow days. These however were eased by banter filled emails from my Tweedles and Mr. Cheese from their own offices across the country. Finally though Friday had arrived and as work colleagues diminished by the hours it was finally the clock hit home time. As I hitched a lift home from another work buddy I contemplated my evening ahead but most importantly what I was going to wear! Now as it has been that time of year again for most places in the world, especially the States; Halloween has been very much on my mind since me and Miss Chocolate agreed to a night out to celebrate. Dress code: Fancy dress!

So as I pottered about the flat, organising my outfit and planning my beauty schedule I couldn't help think about some of the words of wisdom have been for my first night out after things have started getting serious between me and Mr. Cheese. To be honest I have morals and whilst everyone might not agree with them they are mine and I stick by them. The phrases 'what someone doesn't know wont hurt them' and 'logically your still single so anything goes' are a frequent topic of conversation amongst my friends and I when the subject does arise and I must say that I suppose in some respect's; I agree. Whilst I have not been seeing anyone else since meeting Mr. Cheese, I suppose in a sense there is nothing stopping me from doing so, apart from the fact that I was brought me up better than that and am a very faithful, loyal and trustworthy girl. Now I am not saying that in any way it is OK to cheat as it were but the fact is that we are not in a concrete relationship means that I suppose the rules could be bent if Mr. Cheese and I wanted to bend them. I mean if the tables were turned and something happened on Mr. Cheese's side, be it a kiss or a full blown orgy, then yes of course I would be upset, but at the end of the day Mr. Cheese and I are not fully exclusive (yet) so I would really have no grounds to stand on. It would be very hypocritical to have two people playing the same game but by different rules. Regardless of all this I pushed aside my minuscule worries of round-about-infidelity to the back of my mind and donned my Little Red Riding Costume including cute pig tails, blackened Halloween eyes and wolf claw scratches I headed for the station.

Upon meeting Miss Chocolate in my hometown I realised I was possibly overdressed for the occasion. With fake blood smeared across her face and a full outfit of black topped off with a sheer white blouse I knew something had gone wrong with the school girl idea. The reason. Boobs! Apparently some people are very sadly well endowed and this means that certain items of clothing do not do up. Mainly that shirt. Unfortunately this is not the plight I have with my small to average C-Cup breasticles. Heading into the pub however the punters didn't seem to care as mouths dropped and eyes were adverted towards us. Or at least that's how it plays out in my head as I write tonight. Grabbing some drinks and necking some shots and bombs we discussed men and how much they aggravate us sometimes. As the music bounced on so did we and onto the second venue of the night. 

Heading into the small, dark alternative club under the speed-way I could see Miss Chocolate would not enjoy her experience here, whilst I however felt at home and at ease with the company in there. Among the party-goers were vampires, werewolves, zombies and bloodied people although there were some very out-there costumes. After a few moments adjusting to the atmosphere I noticed a horror movie puppet, a clown (very scary), a viking and a pirate. Throughout the female population there were broken creepy dolls, brides, nurses, skeletons, maids and cheerleaders - All dead of course. As we went to the bar to get some drinks Miss Chocolate and I made our first friends of the evening, someone named after a brand of chocolate whom I had met there before and another gentleman who looked very much like an Ex of mine whose profession lied within agriculture. Well OK, he was a farmer. 

As we clinked our glasses and toasted to being somewhat single, our newly acquired male friends looked on in awe as we slipped the smooth and fruity cocktail down our throats. High-fiving for a reason I cannot recall we sat and I struck upon with the farmer-doppelganger. He had come as a Zombie although I was not fully convinced he had made as much effort as myself. Mr. Zombie seemed nice enough and after he finished his own drink he bought me one. Smiling and saying a polite 'thank you' we headed back to Miss Chocolate who was perched on a stool not looking very impressed at the growing club of scary costumed people. As conversation progressed I soon realised that Mr. Zombie and I had nothing in common. And he laughed like Santa. And so for that reason, and the fact Miss Chocolate had bartered the time we would spend at venue number two, we left but not before I was awkwardly serenaded by Mr. Zombie to a song that spoke of being 'broken' and not being able to 'feel emotion'. Yes. I had to leave. And as Miss Chocolate and I scurried away I knew that although the night had only began, I certainly knew that Little Red Riding Hood's woodcutter was not nearby. Possibly in the Midlands?!

The following morning I woke in my own bed and still dressed in what I went out in. Little Red was feeling nearly dead with tiredness. Nevertheless I got up and dressed, tidied up and left for my spa day with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Stuu. We had wittingly called this occasion a Sparty! Although as myself and Miss Tweedle-Dee found out it was not very Sparty when you nearly sit on someone in the steam room for fault of it being too steamy! The only way we could identify said individual from the fixtures and fitting was the sheer fact that I thought ''Oooh, that bench has legs ... Oh wait! Oops!'' Indeed this could have quiet easily been an awful faux pas, but that was not the only calamity at our Sparty for Miss Stuu and I got alot closer than intended. 

Walking into our treatment room dressed in a bikini, soft fluffy robe and slippers, Miss Stuu and I were excited to be rubbed down with aromatic oils and creams to make our skin feel silky smooth and releasing all our tensions of the world. Unfortunately or fortunately my masseuse was not called Chantelle. The two massage ladies asked us to remove our pool soaked swimwear and pop on what was handed to us in a little plastic pouch. Instantly I knew what it was. Yes, there was no mistaking it as Miss Stuu looked at me in horror we agreed that these were paper panties. removing them from the packaging we giggled and laughed at the ridiculousness of them and without hesitation I stripped off to wriggle into my new briefs. And Brief they were indeed. They barely covered my biscuit and Miss Stuu had trouble keeping hers from falling down. In between fits of laughter and a shocked paper-pantie daze I hadn't noticed that the spa girls were getting impatient outside and suddenly opened the door to our treatment room where both myself and Miss Stuu were fully naked apart from our thin underwear. After apologising and shutting the door swiftly I laughed as I hopped onto the massage bed and stuck my head in the doughnut hole while Miss Stuu sheepishly followed. Safe to say that it was very relaxing and paper pants I could get used to. Although on cringe-scale I doubt this tops the Tweedles experience whereby Miss Tweedle-Dumb fell asleep she was so relaxed ended up snoring and then farted and woke herself up all the while Miss Tweedle-Dee on the other hand died of embarrassment. Sometimes you really have to question the utter brilliance of your friends!

And so that was my weekend. Sunday was relaxing as I spent it with family visiting my Grandad in hospital whilst he recovers from major heart surgery. Thankfully he pulled through and is now on the mend. Get better soon  G-Dog! As for this week nothing special is planned, except from maybe a surprise visit to London to see a certain kind of Cheese!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx