Knob rot; a cure for insanity.

Once again I’ve been as slack as a pair granny pants with busted elastic, I apologise that I’ve not written for a while, I’ve been a little busy.

Drama unfolded with my ex yet again and I was given a full on talking to by several friends, my mother, received several wrist slaps (bruises to prove it) and I’m pretty sure my cat was giving me some very disapproving looks too. I made some (more) mistakes but I’m glad to report I’ve accepted that fact and put myself onto the road of recovery (for the umpteenth time I know).

I have done this in several dimensions;

1. Repeated to myself how pathetic he is, embellished the pathetic status in my mind and let it grow like Japanese knot weed.

2. Convinced myself he’s slept with girls that are riddled with diseases and now has knob rot.

3. Reminded myself daily what a loser I turn into if I let him in and remember I don’t suit a dunces hat.

4. Think; would I truly want to spend the rest of my life with an emotional retard? Um, no.

5. Found someone else.


Point five was a key one but I’ll come back to that.


If you’ve read my previous blogs you would know that I very stupidly started something again with an ex who is basically like arsenic to me but I have trouble realising it. I got girly and air headed about it, hopeful and let all my sense and reason drain from my being or in other words thought of my lustful urges rather than my mental stability.

He bobbed off traveling for a month and just before he went I let my guard down, granted it was enjoyable until I felt like a used jizz rag thrown to one side after he’d got his fill before jumping on a plane. In hindsight, this was a gift because sweet lord above I cursed him for the first time in ages.

I’ll admit I don’t hate him, neither think that much less of him but I have finally seen him as being a user (albeit a clueless one). "Hallelujah!" my friends cry.

Point two I have my over active imagination to thank for. I see one picture of him with a girl in the vague vicinity that looked a bit grim and I’ve worked out a whole scenario that he’s now riddled with every unpronounceable, puss filled, knob rotting disease there is. It’s worked wonders! My loins are no longer wanting anything to do with his.

When it comes to point 3 I don’t just have myself to rely on for this, I have my wonderful and caring friends (mainly one Geordie lass) who’s more than happy to tell me what a useless waste of space it turns me into and how my IQ drops to around 2 if I even entertain the idea. Maybe I also need to write lines on a blackboard “I will not fuck him ever again as each time I do I lose a brain cell and will be a vegetable by the time I’m 35”

I don’t think I really need to elaborate on point 4 do I?

Moving on to point 5...

Well, I don’t actually want to reveal much yet ha! He is lovely, funny, intelligent, grounded, not an emotional retard, attentive, confident, hot, sexy, fit, hello! and tall, great kisser, makes me giggle like a teenage girl and I’ve not even slept with him yet... (Give me another 48 hours and that will develop), he’s been in contact every day for at least 3 weeks and it’s not an effort!

I’m trying to not count my chickens as there’s still time for him to turn out to be a wally but I have (almost) everything crossed that he remains on this level and doesn’t suddenly take a nose dive into dickdom!

Wish me luck!!