And now for something Completely Different..

Before this blog goes any further, let me make something clear. I love my boyfriend.
I do not say it enough. When I do it sounds silly, babyish or just orgasmic. And I certainly don't write it enough, partly because I imagine most of my visitors would cease reading if each of my entries made them violently sick.

But I do love him, and I want to make you understand that. I would write an epic love poem exclaiming my love, but knowing him he would stare at it for a while then roll over and go back to sleep. And so instead I will just say it here one more time. I love him. I love him. I love him.
And a large proportion of the time I want him dead.

Now those of you already tied into long term relationships, like a submissive into a sling, you know this feeling already, but some of the single, care-free readers I jealously admire may find it harder to understand and get confused when, as is bound to happen, I rant about how much he annoys me and then run into the front room with him to watch the Saturday night takeaway.

At no point did I decide to spend my life with someone else. It is a remarkable choice, which invariably affects my life and this blog. And as bitter things are funnier to write about than sweet ones it may seem, most of the time, that I would rather live in a small beach hut on a clump of rock orbiting the moon, than live with my man.

This is the problem with themed blogs. If I could be bothered to write a diary like blog of my boring little life that would get maybe 2 visitors a year, they would see a much more balanced view. But I am selfish. And I want viewers. And I also want money, but that seems to be a little harder to get.

And so I say it again in pre-penitence. I love my boyfriend.
He is annoying, possessive, impulsive, obsessive, and I hate him.
And he is loving, funny, caring, giving, damn sexy and I love him, more than anything, ever, in the history of the world, the universe and everything- with the possible exception of this blog.

So next time I am knocking him down, slating him off or just bitching about his music taste, remember that after I click publish I still go and hug him whilst watching trash TV.

Because that, after all, is what lovers do.
Together, forever - or at least until the ad breaks.