Feeling better

It is a truly glorious day.

We are still in lockdown here…

Now, there’s a phrase I never thought I’d be using.  I still can’t quite get my head around what is happening in the world, but it’s happening none the less.

The UK is about to enter week three of lockdown and it feels like the third month, not the third week.  The days are all merging in to one and I fear the weeks will be much the same.  It is a weird feeling being in lockdown, people view it with different levels of severity and opinions on what is right and wrong and these opinions are often combative.  Sadly when people have too much time on their hands they have little else to do except worry about what everyone else is doing and whether they are doing it right or not.

Everyone is quick to criticize others, for going out too often or for too long, or for talking to too many people.  Neighbourhoods are the worst.  You hear people saying things like, ‘I saw her go out twice in her car’ and ‘that’s the third time he’s walked that dog’.  Curtains are twitching everywhere, as people keep an eye on what everyone else is doing.

Neighbourhood watch has taken on a whole new meaning!

It is of course the Easter holidays, but it is of little consequence at the moment, as social distancing makes it impossible to be with your friends and family for anything, never mind roast lamb and easter eggs.  We can’t go on holiday, take trips to the beach or even sit in our favourite pub drinking gin cocktails, which is what we would have been doing this weekend.

We all, or most of us, understand the reasons why and most of us are completely compliant.  We see the bigger picture, the need to control the spread of this virus and the need for things to return to return to normal as soon as they reasonably can.  Therefore, we abide by the rules as best as we can and look forward to the day when we can all enjoy our freedom again.

Freedom.  It’s a powerful word isn’t it. 

One that is not associated with our lives today.  The last time freedom was restricted in this country was during WWII, a time most of us living today will not have experienced.  There are approximately 250,000 people alive today, who would have experienced the devastating effects of the second world war first hand, which in a population of around 67,000,000 is a small percentage of us, but if they could give us any advice, I am pretty certain it would be to bloody well man up!

We have to stay at home. It is as simple as that.

In our first world homes, with our gadgets and gizmos, our wi-fi and our plentiful supplies (alright, we have to queue for them, but in comparison), our online shopping and deliveries, on demand television and entertainment at our fingertips.  It’s tough isn’t it?

If you live on your own or are in the vulnerable category it will be harder for you than for most, the ability to communicate with others is a powerful tool and one that has a massive impact on your mental health, but imagine if we didn’t have phones or face time, a wonderful invention that enables you to see up your loved ones nostrils, while talking about what you haven’t been doing.  I am using my Mother as an example here, who still hasn’t quite managed to work out how close is too close.

Saying that, last night we had a group face time chat with my Sister and her husband and some friends and I was having a very similar problem.  I couldn’t decide where would be the best place to have my mobile device while chatting, too far away and you could see I was still in my pyjamas at 6 pm and too close was just plain bloody scary.

Is there a good light for face time?  Answers on a postcard please. 

The dating game has changed dramatically since the start of isolation. 

There is no dating, there is just sexting, or chatting, which still leads to sexting, or talking, which still leads to sexting. 

Or… we can ‘use this time to get to know each other’, which is of course, sexting.

There are horny men (and I expect women) all over the country who can’t get any action and the dating sites are full of people who want to endlessly flirt their way into your DM’s, dropping pics of bare torsos and over-ripe arses at an alarming rate.

I myself am enjoying some flirty chat with a couple of guys, who when all this is over, I am highly unlucky to want to travel 360 miles to see.  However, for now they are keeping my mind off the coronavirus and well and truly in the gutter.  It’s quite nice actually.  It has certainly relieved some of the tension I was feeling last week.

Honestly, the whole sexting thing hasn’t just erupted since the outbreak of covid19, but the demand for it has definitely increased.  The age old art of stimulating someone by message or picture has been around, almost since the dawn of technology and now you can take your pick of the hundred or so messaging apps available to have your saucy chat on, without even revealing your name or your phone number. 

Welcome to the world of anonymous titillation.

The art of sexting is not in the sexting itself,  that bit is easy, mention the words wet or hard and you’ve pretty much got it nailed.  No.  The art to sexting is trying not to fall asleep on the job.  It can be tedious and boring and most of the time you are wearing lounge pants with bleach stains on them and an over sized t-shirt, no make up and your hair hair hasn’t seen a brush all day.   You couldn’t look less like the hot girl in that sexy  shot from a few months ago if you tried.  You know the one I’m talking about, the one in the black see through panties and stockings.

Oh her. Yeah, she looks really sexy that one!  Just wait till I get my hands on you. 

Was it you or not?  Who knows…

Who cares.  If it does the job.

The internet is full of pictures, gifs and clips.  A huge selection of all sorts of shapes and sizes, in a shockingly wide variety of poses and up to all kinds of nonsense, so as long as no one checks my browser, who will know?  Besides, who has time to take a dozen provocative selfies a day, not me that’s for sure.  I can manage the odd one but after that it’s a bit of a mission to be honest.

There are those I play properly with and those that I don’t.  It’s a process of elimination.

A feeling I suppose.

Weirdly, there are some that I enjoy the kick with and those that I find really tedious.  You can never tell who is going to float your boat and who isn’t.  Some are too full on, or too crude and there are those that are not flirty enough.  I know, men can be quite shy!  Who’s have thought.   I don’t want to talk about what you had for dinner, but I don’t want to see the end it comes out of either, not in such graphic detail at least.  Let’s find a happy place in the middle somewhere.

I love a good flirt.  I love it in person and I love in a message, but I like a fun, sexy flirt not a, ‘shove this up your arse darling, let me hear you scream’.

If only I could make you scream too.  In agony!

Like everything it is a horses for courses thing.  What one thing does for one, will do absolutely nothing for another, it is all about finding the right kind of chat for you.  I see no harm in a bit of casual flirting, it passes the time on a quiet evening and if you are in the mood it can be quite fun.  It is never likely to turn into any kind of romance, neither will probably last for any length of time, but you should enjoy it and if you don’t then stop, find someone else, there is an abundance of candidates to choose from.

I had a lovely start to my Sunday morning, it certainly put the spring back in my step…

… and now I am off for my daily exercise, close to home and on my own, as I can’t drag my two bloody teenagers out of bed, never mind out of the house.

Much love,


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