Intermission

"sus·pen·sion –noun

1.	the act of suspending.

2.	the state of being suspended.

3.	temporary abrogation or withholding, as of a law, privilege, decision, belief, etc.

4.	stoppage of payment of debts or claims because of financial inability or insolvency.

5.	Chemistry. a. the state in which the particles of a substance are mixed with a fluid but are undissolved. b. a substance in such a state.

6.	Physical Chemistry. a system consisting of small particles kept dispersed by agitation (mechanical suspension) or by the molecular motion in the surrounding medium (colloidal suspension).

7.	something on or by which something else is suspended or hung.

8.	something that is suspended or hung.

9.	Also called suspension system. the arrangement of springs, shock absorbers, hangers, etc., in an automobile, railway car, etc., connecting the wheel-suspension units or axles to the chassis frame.

10.	Electricity. a wire, filament, or group of wires by which the conducting part of an instrument or device is suspended.

11.	Music. a. the prolongation of a tone in one chord into the following chord, usually producing a temporary dissonance. b. the tone so prolonged.

12.	Rhetoric. the heightening of interest by delay of the main subject or clause, especially by means of a series of parallel preceding elements.

Greetings Rugby Universe

"If you're never scared or embarrassed or hurt, it means you never take any chances." - Julia Sorel

Goodness my dears! I have been busy!! I'll try to stick to chronological order soooo..
Met up with Graydog last week in Chinatown so he could tell me in person that I am on back burner while he sorts himself with his ex. As we kissed (gods we kiss well together) goodbye, I could only think: STUPID BOY. Told him when she leaves he is welcome to call and if we are both still single and keen.. Right.
The next day I went to Manchester for work for 5 days. Fashion week- ooooohh. :) I was on a mission to pull (at least I said I was) but when my colleagues asked what I wanted, I got sad. A colonial. Tall, dark hair, laid back, big dick.. Bit specific, no? Shout out to Reuben and Graydog for being my type. Frankly, I was not in the mood to conquer anyone so ended up throwing a couple guys out of my hotel room and coming home aspen (pure as the the driven snow, baby). I couldn't be asked to come straight home so stayed at my silver fox's for the first night and then went to my rugby coach to see what would develop. He's my physical type no doubt but I was shocked that the boy is possibly more perverse than me! Brilliant. Never fisted a man's ass before! TMI?
I'll see him again soon. I left his after buying more charlie to keep me conscious and silver fox picked me up in a taxi. We headed off to South London to look at a flatshare for me where I can start again, away from the mental Albanian issues. I will know by the end of the weekend if I am moving. After the flat tour, silver fox and I ended up in a trendy gay bar while I got texts from my twin. He wanted me to come home so came out looking for me. When he came up with his mate and put his arm on my shoulder, I was truly scared there would be trouble but my companion was cool and I slipped off into the night to be controlled. My twin says he is having me watched and I am not sure. He has me escorted whenever possible and always seems to know more than he should but, come on, who has the time to follow people around?!
So, I am going away for the weekend with silver fox, hooking up next week with rugby coach, and trying to soothe my wild twin tonight. Life is exciting, my sweethearts, and as always very, very good.

Irons in the Fire

"Quot Homines Tot Sententiae. (So many men so many questions.)" - Terence

I am aware that I don't usually update this often but I have been quite busy these days and would like to keep you all abreast of current events. The Albanian trouble seems to be mostly over though I am still seeing my twin again tonight so I suppose it is possible violence could break out. He's such a sweet boy though and treats me like the little princess I am therefore I do believe he will behave for my sake. On to other 'irons'. Wait. Slight digression necessary..
I chose this post title because I liked the phallic implication of irons being plunged into my fire however the cockney meaning of 'iron' is a gay man (iron hoof- poof) and I wanted to make it quite clear that I am not using cockney. This has been a public service announcement. Back to your regular program..
So silver fox is separating from his wife and will get even more needy of my time now. My flatmate has asked me to move and silver fox has offered me his pied a terre for as long as I need it but if he is using it too.. It might get a bit close for me to being a serious relationship. He is well aware I date others and am unwilling to commit at this time. Sticky. Anyway, you are probably wondering how that dinner with Graydog went.
We met in Pimlico at one of the yummiest tapas places in London. Graydog had never had tapas so asked me to order for us. What would you young people like to eat? The waiter asked. We giggled and I ordered a feast for us. It was lovely and my boy didn't even mind eating pulpos de feira with me. Our table was so covered with food that we had to hold hands under the table but the affection and convo flowed easily with us until I asked about his recent unsettling news. My girlfriend from South Africa.. he began. I picked up my sangria and drained the glass, refilling it instantly. So this woman is coming to London in a few weeks to enjoy my lover for a month. Bugger. After dinner, I took Graydog to Nobu which we both thoroughly enjoyed. We've got a bit of a contest going for how many different places we can be identified as 'that couple snogging' and adding Nobu was sweet. We taxied back to his and he took my dress off to reveal an elegant corset with money stuffed into it (hadn't had time to wire it to my brother yet). We shagged and got all into the cliche of my Agent Provocateur lingerie, Chanel shoes, and a huge pile of money on the bed. Shagging with him is gorgeous. Neither of us even mentioned a condom for the first time and I broke another rule by barebacking. Oh dear.
So the next morning, after luring Graydog into another couple shags, I offered to take his flatmate to breakfast. Mr. Cap is a lovely boy. Sensitive, kind, and a great conversationalist, I forced a couple of breakfast pints on him before we moved on to a beer garden for a bottle of pinot noir. I would like to note here that we were not completely Thursday wastrels since we stopped in a shop for me to buy some really cute socks and I also managed to hook up with my favourite dealer. Woohoo! Mr. Cap and I headed back to his and Graydog's so I could chill for a bit before going out with my boss later that night. We stopped at an off license to get some wine and, without looking up, I asked the attendant if they had condoms for sale. Silence ensued and I looked. An eight year old girl sat there gaping at me and I gasped before turning red and pissing myself with laughter. Mr. Cap was beside himself as well. The mother came up to show us where the condoms are and we started laughing all over again when we spotted the ones labeled 'English Supporter'. Hysterical! So I shared some goodies with the other people in the house and then jumped a taxi to mine to prepare for an elegant evening with my boss. Good gods. Ended up at my twin's, off my face from substances and no food since breakfast. I was utterly rubbish to him and I am shocked he still wants to see me tonight. I guess he does think of me as his baby girl though and maybe I can be forgiven for being gattina cattiva. Maybe.
So what do you all think? Write off Graydog for being a bastard with a girlfriend? Can silver fox for being needy? Run from my twin for being a bad man and scary fighter? Rugby coach gets back to town next week and unless I cull, there are too many irons in the fire.

Fisticuffs

"Opinions founded on prejudice are always sustained with the greatest of violence." - Francis Jeffrey

Well, my dears, your lovable little Gattina has gotten herself into a more frightening adventure than usual.
-Gattina closes her eyes and massages her jacked up wrist while she tries to remember where it all bloody started.-
So you all pretty much know that I have an affinity for grotty pubs and rough people. I spent last weekend off my face on sniff and puff with someone I marginally knew before. We are purely drugmates and I did not realise he fancied me so much until... but I am getting ahead. At his, I happened upon a pair of serious looking handcuffs (this guy belongs to what is loosely referred to as 'The Jock Mafia') and started playing with them. Little kitten batting at twine, right? You can't put those on your wrist, he said. Sure I can, I said locking my right wrist into a cuff. There's no key you fool, he shouted while laughing and shaking his head. Bugger. I'll sort it later, I said and proceeded to get much more high.
The next morning, I woke up to see the damned thing on my wrist on my pillow and groaned. My flatmate called a cop for a key and said we could get it off hopefully at 19.00. Great. I went to Debs and spent a fun girly day with her and then went to the pub to meet my flatmate. Everyone thought it was funny, including me, until the key didn't work. What to do? Well, get pissed before going to the fire brigade and getting it cut off! My stalker was sitting with a mate and he shook his head in disappointment (he IS still trying to marry me and carry me off to Albania) while his mate started provoking me with dares to cuff him to me. One should not dare a girl like Gattina. I locked him to me and luckily with his left wrist so we could sit side by side and try to pick the locks. I only drink alcohol with my right hand so he was dragged along for every sip of my gin and tonic and had to follow me into the bathroom. He's terribly cute (you all realise I am speaking of my stalker's mate, right? Ok.) and chatted easily with the ladies as I bent his arm in with me to the WC. We were giving up on getting detached until the next day when my drugmate, Dyson, started getting jealous and humpy. Great. We decided to take directions to the nearest brigade and while talking with the barmaid, the door to the other side of the pub opened and Dyson charged through. He attacked my twin (we've decided to be twins since we were locked together... ) from the back. Dyson is a big man. A roofer with hands like hams but my twin is no stranger to violence. They crashed into a sofa with me dragging along watching my wrist sprain and then feeling a small bone break. You are hurting my arm! I shouted. Dyson took no notice but my twin did. He had been fighting Dyson off with one arm. We left as soon as possible and went to my twin's. He and my stalker talked in Albanian as we got the cuffs finally off. As soon as we were free, we went after them. Dyson had sent me several texts calling me a dirty gypsy prostitute and such and my arm was fucked so I am afraid my blood was up as well as my mates'. Yay, Europeans! We found Dyson, Debs, and her boyfriend (another mate of mine) at a taxi stand and I was relieved to see my boys pocket their knives before attacking. It was fast and horrible. The Jocks outweighed the Albanians by many stone but were beat in a moment. The saddest part is Debs shouting at me that it was all my fault. She still will not forgive me even though Dyson has apologised (I mean what kind of 'tough guy' attacks a man who is chained to a woman with his back turned?!) and the trouble seems over. No one is dead and no one is in jail. I still don't see why it started but I have a cracked wrist, a bruised rib, and some street cred (though who wants it?! I hate violence!), the Jocks have masks of bruises, and the Albanians are like biz as usual- you bring, you get. I wish I could say it stopped there but it didn't.
After we ran away from the cops (I scaled an 8 foot fence!), we went to my twin's to lay low. I was adrenalined from the fight and there was only one double bed soooo... We three, ummm, fooled around. My twin was totally cool but my stalker (there is a reason I call him stalker!) has flipped out. He feels I am his and so shared me once for his great love or summat but then demanded my twin to go away. As it happens, my twin has taken a liking to me and knows I am truly unclaimed by anyone so this started more problems. Ye gods! Dyson was texting threats to murder us all and went so far as to approach my twin's best mate in the middle of the road and wave a knife in his face (The guy had no idea about the fight so just said 'Fuck off, I am on the phone' and walked away. He is so fucking cool.) so we had an Albanian assembly to plan not to die. That was bloody intense and as I was the only one in communication with Dyson, I was unable to just be out of it. Things eventually started to look like they could get sorted so stalker and my twin didn't have to be at peace anymore. More violence broke out and I must say my twin is a seriously good fighter. Glad he seems to like being on my side!
I finally buggered off to silver fox's pied a terre where I could be in peace for a night. He will be here tonight and I can tell him the stories. Mostly. I met my twin today for a pint and we laughed alot about how all these men could fight over an unclaimed woman. I made him promise not to fight anyone today but I get a perverse smile knowing that he has, can, and would again fight for me and his own honour. Spending time with these kind of men is like cobra dancing. Thrilling and dangerous.
I am taking Graydog to dinner tomorrow night and I can't wait to be in his laid back presence. All this drama has made me hungry for an uncomplicated date!

Alternative Rugby Commentary- The Ten Commandments

"Sport is imposing order on what was chaos." - Anthony Starr

So what is my favourite sport? Sex. Next? Rugby. It seems a good idea to combine the two, even if a bit dangerous, however the rugby coach I have been flirting with is such a tosser I don't know if I can be asked! This does not disappoint me. Why? Because Graydog is taking such excellent care of me that I don't have the inclination or energy to chase that idiot rugby guy around! I am aware, my darlings, that as soon as I start getting all fulfilled by one person, I am in danger. My brother said of Graydog, you like him so run because I don't want to see you hurt again. So, I am trying to sort a few commandments for myself. The post heading refers to www.youtube.com/watch?v=cny1i4qyyMo

1. Drink and drug too much to be a good potential partner to someone.
2. Talk shit to potential partners about how promiscuous I am to frighten them off.
3. BE that promiscuous.
4. If the man in question has the upper hand, take it back.
5. Make sure other activities such as -gasp- work are more important.
6. If I find myself mooning over the way a man touches my face or satisfies my body or makes me laugh, distract myself with work and vices.
7. Focus on the faults (c'mon everyone has them!) of the man in question.
8. Take absolutely no advice from anyone who wishes me to fall in love and live happily ever after. They speaketh bullocks.
9. Dwell on past hurts and abandonments to fortify my 'I don't need anyone- I am GATTINA' position.
10. Remember not to cause harm to anyone if possible to avoid guilt and regret.

So now that you know my general game plan, let's get back to the fun details...
I met Graydog after work last night and was perhaps a bit overeager to get him somewhere private where I could enjoy him properly. On the tube and train to his, he touched me often and kissed me as he said, relax. I am high strung, why do I dig laid back men?! After a whole lot of shagging, we curled up and he slept. He is warm and comfortable and affectionate in his sleep... Uh-oh. Back to the commandments with me for being a fuckin'... Ok, anyhoo... He is blasted yummy and I am enjoying my time with him. That said, thank the gods I am getting back to work in a few days!!!
I am off for a drive in the country with my silver fox tomorrow. I'm still punishing him for being a manipulative cock but I can't wait to drive his Aston Martin around Sussex in the sunshine.
-Gattina edits a few lines and realises she has given this blog address to too many people that are mentioned in it.-
Well, if you can't take the truth with a laugh, you certainly should not know me! Here endeth the lesson for today...

I Would Walk 500 Miles...

"But seduction isn’t making someone do what they don’t want to do. Seduction is enticing someone into doing what they secretly want to do already." - Waiter Rant

What can be as smugly satisfying as targeting a person and pulling them? Ross and I hit the clubs Friday night. We started at The Slug @ Fulham and went right into double vodkas and charlie. I spotted a tall, dark, and lean hottie dancing and pointed him out to my brother. The music kicked ass but we were going deaf in there so decided to move on down the frog (bit of cockney for ya). My hottie had disappeared anyway.
We chose Club Havana which I first went to the night I met Roo. There was a queue and Ross pointed out my hottie at the front. Woohoo! The music was pretty good and we danced and danced. Near the end of the night, I approached my target for a dance. We moved well together and managed to chat and snog a bit as well. He's South African and I *ahem* had been missing that country. -Gattina tries unsuccessfully to stifle yet one more smug grin- He lives much nearer Fulham than I so my brother and I accepted his offer of hospitality and jumped on a night bus. The boys (Ross, Graydog, and his mate) ate crisps and I hit the water, uncomfortably aware that my new packet of charlie was melting in a pool of sweat next to my skin. Shit. At theirs, more mates showed up. One had fortuitously brought 4 big macs so my brother got real sustenance before passing out on a chair while the rest of us attempted to dry out my ruined gram.
Graydog and I went into his room for private time and I was SHOCKED! After a full night of partying, the guy still managed to shag me 7 times or so with his gorgeous, hot cock and I even broke my rule (it's my rule, I'll break it if I want!) to taste his hotness. We had a one hour kip and then Ross and I made our way up to Notting Hill to see Portobello Road market and mack out on some really good sushi in last night's party clothes. I bought some necessary sunshades and my brother got gifts for friends. I left a message thanking Graydog for the hot shag, pointedly not giving him my number. I was so high on being in control and, smug bitch that I am, wanted to stay that way. Hehe. The fact is though, I can't bloody wait to tap that again!
My brother got home safely and I spent yesterday playing moderator between my flatmate and his girl. She rang me to wake me up and we went for a walk in the park. I still hadn't bathed and was in tiny shorts but hey, she needed to chat and what are mates for?! The rugby coach I had met texted apologies to me for his terrible state and Debs and I spent some time torturing him and making new ducky jokes (I can't seriously be asked to explain that one!). My flatmate called me down to the pub so I went, in those same silly clothes and grotty body! Oh sakes! Made it home eventually and trotted over to the neighbours' for a dance/drink-a-thon. I cannot express the great pleasure and relief I had climbing into a warm bubble bath this afternoon! Oh yeah, did I tell you I pulled a hot South African and shagged him 7 times??!! Hahaha... trumpets! (www.visit4info.com/advert/Jelly-Snakes-Bring-on-the-Trumpets-Jelly-Sweets/62733)

P.s.

I forgot to share this wee anecdote: last night on the train home, an extremely inebriated woman basically collapsed on my back between incomprehensible phone calls. The people around, including my brother, laughed but I just said, 'As long as she doesn't puke on my Chanel jacket, I'm good!' Party on, London!