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The Ravings of a Mad Housewife

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August 23rd, 2003


01:27 pm - I'm so bloody stoned I could shit
I love it. I fucking love it. Dancing in the den. Music blaring. Saturday night. The children are off with the new Nanny doing something or other. George has been sleeping in the downstairs study these last few weeks, which suits me fine to tell you the fucking truth. That prick can rot down there for all I care. Everything I need is right here in this room. Good tunes, good smoke, good drink, good porn and good friends.

Online friends but friends regardless. I know you're reading this Donnie, just so you don't think I'm leaving you out!

Oh jesus am I ever horny.

I just finished watching House of 1000 Corpses on the ole computer and I do love a good horror show. There's something very carnal and wrong about the way getting scared gets me excited. Not that it was overly scary... it was just a good fun gore fest. Bitches getting torn apart and idiot blokes getting their eyes torn out and those sorts of terrible lovely things. It's not that I get off on other people's misery... it's just that there's something about that sort of power that one person can have over another. Makes me happy in my knickers. It doesn't hurt that getting lit like I am at the moment makes me ever so horny.

Strange things have been happening inside the head of this particular lady as of late. Very strange things. I've decided to stop caring about who thinks what about whom. I couldn't care less anymore. If George doesn't want to fuck anymore, then fuck him. I'll find some other bloke's mustache to ride. Or perhaps a lady friend. Anymore, I'm indifferent. I've decided that all I want nowadays is to FEEL something.

Which is why I’m currently taking a break from my rigorous routine of dancing wildly around the den with nothing but my knickers and one of George’s neckties, fondling my breasts in front of the window, hoping to dear god that someone... anyone... was watching?

Last night I had a dream.

In my dream I was attending marriage counseling sessions with George, which is completely ridiculous considering George's attitude towards such things. I was explaining to the counselor that I was extremely lonely and that George was no longer interested in sex. George suddenly rose and removed his clothes and sat back down for no apparent reason. The counselor seamed not to notice.

The counselor was a fat man with a beard. He smelled of pipe tobacco and whiskey. He turned to George and asked why he was no longer interested in sex. George was masturbating and drooling on himself. The sight was less sexual and more pathetic. He looked like a mongoloid whose only desire was to jerk off. Completely self consumed. The counselor was oblivious and kept asking over and over why he was no longer interested in sex with me.

He turned back to me and said that it appeared that George was perfectly healthy and that the problem was in fact with me. This infuriated me and I stood up and started removing my own clothes and screaming at him that the problem was on George's end. I was always ready for sex. Ready and willing. I pushed George back on the sofa and tried to pry his hands off of his cock. He wouldn't move them. I tried to lick him around his hands to persuade him. Still no reaction. I turned to the councilor who was suddenly also naked.

I stepped back, repulsed, as George suddenly pounced on the counselor and began feverously riding him like a monkey or something.

I ran through the halls of what was apparently some kind of hospital. It was extremely cold and my nipples were like ice. The hospital was empty. There was a buzzer sounding. Constantly sounding. As I ran the buzzing got louder and louder until I could barely stand it. I burst through a door to find a man bound up in casts and slings. His hand was wrapped around a nurses call button. I walked over to him a suddenly I WAS a nurse. In fact, I was the ONLY nurse in the whole hospital. His thumb kept pushing the button over and over again. I walked over and gently took it from him. At this point I no longer felt connected to the earlier part of my dream with George and the counselor. Suddenly I WAS this nurse and it was my job to make sure this guy was taken care of. I changed his IV bag and fluffed his pillow. As I did this, I came to realize that his thumb was still moving as though he were still holding the call button. I looked him over and realized that he was badly brain damaged. His eyes rolled around as if independent from each other. His mouth made a sucking motion as though he were a baby trying to nurse.

While his one hand was still pushing the invisible call button, I noticed that his other hand was under the blanket, methodically masturbating. My first impulse was to stop him, but then I felt such pity for him that I let him be. Looking over the photos on the walls I came to realize that I was in a military hospital and this man was a wounded soldier. I sat down next to him and took his call button hand and held it while his other hand stroked himself. I felt an overwhelming urge to cry as I watched this poor brain damaged human being lost in the only pleasure he's capable of feeling.

And his mouth still tried to nurse.

I stood up and walked over and closed the curtain that separated his bed from the rest of the room. I sat down on the bed next to him and unbuttoned my blouse. Tentatively I leaned forward and offered my breast to his suckling mouth. He quickly began to nurse at it. I was scared that he might bite me, but he never did. He just sucked, trying to get at milk that wasn't there. I reached down and took over the stroking for him. His hand left his cock and wrapped itself around my breast as he sucked. I methodically stroked him until he came with a gasp, his juice pumping out over the back of my hand and into his soft pubic hair. He fell back against the pillow and fell almost instantly to sleep. I brought my hand to my mouth and licked it clean, then buttoned my blouse back up and left the room.

Then some other strange things happened that I don't quite remember right now. Those two episodes were the parts of the dream that stood out for me.

Anyway, I'm off to watch porn eat biscuits. Mmmm...McVitties Digestives. Good shit.
Current Music: The Doors - The Crystal Ship

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June 26th, 2003


07:53 am - toucha toucha touch me
I want to feel dirty!

So George interviewed yet ANOTHER nanny for the children again today. This one is... odd... to say the least. She seems at the same time hyper aware and mentally superior than anyone I know, yet also completely mad.

But not in a scary way... just in a... I don't know... interesting way. Nothing that would make me doubt her ability with the children... it's just more entertaining and keeps you on your toes. The children seem to love her, which is good.
Current Music: Heart - Dreamboat Annie & Crazy On You

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June 24th, 2003


02:07 pm - well, that's just plesant
Happy Deathday!
Your name:winifredbanks
You will die on:Sunday, October 12, 2014
You will die of:Electrocution
Username:
Created by Quill


I always new it would be something stupid like that. Probably from trying to bring the telly into the tub with me so I didn't miss Changing Rooms while I bathed my stanky self. I truely am a media whore.
Current Music: Aha - Take On Me

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12:01 am - drunk and delerious
the computer is doing an incredible impersonation of a dying cow. Very convincing. It belches and moves about as quickly as a drunken sloth.

Perhaps it is because of the excessive amount of pornography I've downloaded. You think?

But I love my stories! That what I call dirty movies. My stories.

The particular story I'm downloading right now stars a strapping Italian gentleman by the name of Rocco who is teaching a somewhat homely but still passably sexy young british woman named Kelly his "way of love"

It's all very entertaining, if somewhat disturbing.

Rum and Coke #5 is swilling in my stomach and I am surprised I am capable of even typing. I impress myself here!

Tomorrow George will wake up, shower, shave (he shaves every day, whether he needs to or not), dress, start coffee and make toast with jam. He will sit at the computer to check his emails (which are all work related I might add. I'd be shy about saying I'd looked in his email before, but considering that it's the most boring crap I've ever seen, I'm not) and then curse to himself because of how much I've buggered up HIS computer. He is very fond of referring to it as "HIS" computer, even though he uses it for a total of ten minutes a day, if that. I use it for easily four hours a day. He bought it because I talked him into it, yet he feels the need to keep reminding me of what exactly is HIS.

It's all quite pathetic.

God...

I do love you George, but god you can be a bastard sometimes.

God I need a fuck. Is there anyone in the area who'd like to come and participate in some entirely unemotional sex with absolutely no commitments to further socialization with an attractive english woman? Please come to my house immediately.

I am off to watch the Italian fellow sexually abuse the british girl and touch myself.
Current Music: Radiohead - Punch Drunk Love Song

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June 23rd, 2003


12:24 am - oh god...
fuck me, Nigella

Current Music: Beach Boys - God Only Knows

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June 22nd, 2003


10:24 pm - mmmm.... good eats
- part one -

Let me set the stage for you.

Eleven am. I'm down two rum n' Cokes and a very fat spliff. Winifred is feeling quite toasty. The children are at school. The maids are downstairs. Winny is on the couch in the upstairs lounge. Jamie Oliver is on the telly teaching me how to properly prepare a roast. I'm hardly interested. I don't cook. I just want to boff his brains out.

Somehow, through the fog of this fantastic dope I got off of Leon from the gym, the programme turns from Jamie to Nigella.

God I love this woman. She's my fantasy fuck-buddy. I've never had sex with a woman but if I ever did, I'd want it to be with Nigella. My lord how she stirs things in my knickers. Dirty, nasty wet things.

Somehow said knickers managed to find their way to the floor, pooled around my ankles like a sleeping cat.
rub me to keep reading )
Current Mood: [mood icon] horny
Current Music: Rolling Stones - Satisfaction

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May 16th, 2003


07:56 pm - splash
Though we adore men individually
We agree that as a group they're rather stupid
Cast off the shackles of yesterday
Shoulder to shoulder into the fray
Our daughter's daughters will adore us
And they'll sing in grateful chorus
Well done sister suffragettes

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07:28 am - another haiku
Choked, slapped, without lube
He enters her from behind
Rocco is awesome
Current Music: The Who - Bargain

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07:00 am - that bastard!
Katie Nanna quit. She just up and QUIT! Said she'd had enough of the children. That they were too much to handle so she just LEFT! Right in the middle of her shift.

Right old bitch is what she is. I never liked her anyway.

But that's not the terrible part.

George sets about writing up an advert for the paper, and he's rambling on and on about discipline and structure, and then the children come down and they've written their own advert, which was cute.

They were going on about games and candy and all sorts of things.

Not that we ever would have USED that advert, but it was cute anyway. So then George, being the indignant prick that he can be sometimes, makes this big show about tearing up the advert they'd written and throwing it into the fire. Broke their little hearts :(

So, yes, my husband can be a bastard.

In other news, it's only 7am and I've already masturbated three times. I do believe I'm mentally ill.

I wrote a poem about it. A haiku really.

Raw, tantalizing
My flesh glows under my touch
To the point of pain
Current Mood: off to watch more porn. wee!
Current Music: Level 42 - Something About You

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April 19th, 2003


09:04 am - Another Saturday
Another morning spent laying in bed, listening to George breath.

Laying there, hearing the heavy rise and fall of his mustache. Praying in vain that he'd initiate something... ANYTHING.

But of course that's just silly. He hasn't the last thousand weekends, why would he start now?

I don't even pray for a good fuck anymore. All I ask for anymore is a hand between the thighs or to feel those whiskers brush my nipples. It's not like before. I've given up on that. A few years ago I'd lay in bed wishing that he'd flip me over, yank me back by my hair and fuck me so hard that it scared the neighbors. Now all I ask is for a smidgen of recognition. Something. Anything. Just let me know that you're aware that things aren't jolly in that department. I'm not even asking that we "make love." I've got two kids. I don't want to "make love" anymore. I've done my share of love making. I want to fuck.

But, no. I lay there listening to the breathing until the breathing becomes coughing, then the coughing wanders out of bed, becomes farting and then becomes the sound of the shower and the electric razor.

This is my Saturday. This is what my Saturday has been for years.

Welcome to it.
Current Mood: [mood icon] frustrated
Current Music: supertramp - bloody well right

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April 17th, 2003


05:04 pm - Bridget Jones Style (LOL)
127 lbs. (vg) , alcohol units 6 (not so good), cigarettes 12 (also not so good), calories 2300 (modest amount).

Attempted to engage in sexual intercourse with George. George chose riding the early bus into downtown. He certainly could have caught the 7:30 bus and stayed and attended to his wife's aching sexual organs, but alas, he did not.

So rather than riding George's mustache, spent morning watching Nigella and attending to own aching sexual organs with mechanical back massager.

Works quite nice. Wonderful gift mother!

Watched Coronation Street, drank kahlua/vanilla milkshakes and smoked John Players Specials. Wonderful fags those are. The way I see it, if you're going to smoke, why screw around with sissy cancers? I go right for the black death. George hates it, but if he gets his evening pipe, I can have my Johnny Players


If I were going to have sex with an unpictured cigarette brand name man, it would probably be John Player.

To say I have an oral fixation would be putting it mildly. If it wasn't cigarettes, I'd be walking around with a bloody soother in my mouth.

If I had to have sex with illustrated cigarette brand name character, it would have to be Joe Camel. His face looks like a massive willy for christ's sake. Just looking at him gives me the old sopping panties.


Thinking about him rooting and sniffing his way between my thighs like a giant dog-man, pushing that big, thick, soft tongue up into me.

Oh yes, give me more of that.

Not to mention all the free cigarettes!

I must go and draw a bath and attend to said aching sex organs again.

TTFN!

PS
Must wait until Katie Nanna takes the children for their outting before attending to aching love organs.

drat
Current Mood: severely aroused
Current Music: Barenaked Ladies - Never Do Anything

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04:08 pm - *sigh*
My husband is such a fuddy duddy
Current Mood: annoyed/horny
Current Music: She Bop - cyndi lauper

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April 16th, 2003


11:18 am - Hello!
And welcome to my online journal!

My name is Winifred, but people just call me Wenny! Except for my husband, who calls me Wenifred!

I live in London... West Kensington to be exact, and I'm 29 years of age. I have two WONDERFUL children, Jane and Michael, and live in a nice two story town house.

Currently I've been investigating feminism and the women's movement. That doesn't mean I'm a lesbian though, so back off girls, I'm married!

LOL!

My favorite shows are The Simpsons, Nigella Bites, Changing Rooms and Coronation Street. My favorite singers are Placebo, Madonna and Radiohead and Pearl Jam.

Anyway, that's it for now! I hope I make some new friends here!
Current Mood: [mood icon] hungry
Current Music: Luther Wright and the Wrongs - Comfortably Numb

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10:03 am - hello livejournal
This is my first post! W00t!

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