My avatar photo on here is getting on for four years old.  It is a frame from an on-line video I did about make-up.  The reasoning behind the video has long since disappeared from my memory.  The point is, I used this pic because I wanted to be honest, but at the same time didn't want to be easily recognised just in case someone who knows me is more into porn than I realised. I look a bit different now (though still gorgeous of course!) 

But I have a dilemma.  Since I have been here (not long), I have got a lot of messages from guys complimenting my avatar.  I am not stupid... I know every other girl on here does too.  The thing is this... I would like to post another avatar, unfortunately the one I would like to post doesn't exist.  This is because I have never allowed such a photo to be taken.  It is the one that would be taken about 11:00 am on a saturday morning when I am slouched on the sofa, listlessly sipping from a mug of coffee, wearing baggy flannelette 'jimmy-jams' and trying to survive the mother of all hangovers.  Worse than having no make-up on... I still have last nights make-up on.

I feel no need for my fantasy at this moment... because I already feel half-dead.  My friend phones to see if I need an ambulance (sarcastic), I decline.  Then she wants to know if I want some warm cinnamon doughnuts and a 'Starbucks'?.  I do.  I really really do... but does my stomach?  She will bring them anyway.

My boyfriend is tapping away on the laptop.  Almost 9 months now, and he is already used to this weekly ritual.  We go out on a Friday night to release the tensions of the week by drinking sensibly.  He drinks sensibly... I drink the rest.  By the time he is finished drinking sensibly, I am insensible.  I defy anyone not to want a Mongolian curry at this point.  Half of the curry is in the fridge now... and we all know a curry tastes better the next morning... right?

Only classical music is allowed to be played.  It must be at very low volume, and preferably funerial in nature.  Mozart might as well be Eminem at these times.  Far too boistrous.  My boyfriend makes me my third mug of coffee and goes to select some human clothing for me to wear.  He knows that my Saturday lunchtime shower is looming.

After my shower, the impending sense of doom begins to lift, and I replace my boyfriends selection of clothing with stuff that has matching or at least complimentary colours.  I check for signs of 'puffiness' in the mirror, but there are none.  This is because I still can't see properly.  I don't apply any make-up at this point.  This is because experience has taught me that if I do... I will notice later on that I look like a drag act.

A lunch of microwaved Mongolian curry is suspended because the cinnamon doughnuts arrive.  The headache that previously had enveloped my entire being, is now only noticeable in the very top of my head, and my left eye.  If I drink 'Tequila' it's always in my right eye.  Weird!

After casting doubt on my ability to eat anything much... I manage to devour three of the six doughnuts.  It must be the life giving force of cinnammon, but I begin to sense other people are in the room.  I demand to know where the Eminem cd's are.

By mid-afternoon I tire of the cloying affection of my friend and my boyfriend... and I am out doing my charity work.  This largely comprises of buying lacy underwear, pvc miniskirts and any other items that might cheer up the sexually deprived.  I also chuck the reamains of my take-away panini in the Thames to 'feed the ducks'.

By six o'clock I am ready to look like my avatar, and I go on line to be greeted with messages that talk of 'hotness', and 'shagability'.

If they only knew...

GeeGee ;-)