{"id":1552,"date":"2007-06-14T10:22:00","date_gmt":"2007-06-14T10:22:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/2007\/06\/14\/muggy\/"},"modified":"2023-09-24T22:32:24","modified_gmt":"2023-09-24T22:32:24","slug":"muggy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/muggy\/","title":{"rendered":"Muggy"},"content":{"rendered":"

It\u2019s Thursday. Nearly another whole week out of the way and another week where I\u2019ve not achieved even close to half the things I wanted to get done. No website updates, hardly any blogging done, hardly any blogging read, and I can\u2019t even blame Football Manager 2005 because I haven\u2019t been playing that either. And it\u2019s not like I\u2019ve been snowed under at work, because I haven\u2019t.<\/span><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t think the weather helps \u2013 it\u2019s muggy and humid and hot and sticky and yet there\u2019s almost no sun. We did manage to sit in the beer garden at the back of the pub across the road yesterday lunchtime to enjoy fish and chips and a pint, but that\u2019s about it. Headache weather the girls in the office call it. They\u2019re not wrong \u2013 I\u2019m getting through Nurofen like nobody\u2019s business.<\/span><\/p>\n

Still, life goes on. I believe I now have a finished draft of \u201cPrivate Party\u201d. I\u2019ll go over it once more today before submission. It topped out at nearly 4500 words and now has a stronger opening than before and more of the \u2018inner voice\u2019 during the sex scene, which the fishies at the <\/span>tank<\/a> told me they quite liked. I just hope I haven\u2019t over done it. Short extract follows below.<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019ve also managed to follow up one of my outstanding submissions. \u201cPublic Performance\u201d has been accepted by <\/span>Ruthie\u2019s Club<\/a>. I\u2019ll let you know the date for publication when I have it.<\/span><\/p>\n

I haven\u2019t heard from <\/span>Phaze<\/a> yet about \u201cCharlotte<\/place><\/city>\u2019s Secret\u201d. I know it\u2019s only been ten days, but I\u2019m forever an optimist. Its not on my calendar to follow up for another few days, but damn it, I\u2019m an impatient bastard at times. On this occasion, however, I\u2019ll have to wait.<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

From \u201cPrivate Party\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Paul and Jack spent the evening trying out cheesy chat-up lines and collecting kisses from the female students. Jack pushed it too far with one of them and got a vodka and Coke thrown over his crotch. While Jack nipped back to his room to change his jeans, Paul started on the tequila. Paul and tequila had a history\u2014to say they didn\u2019t get along particularly well was an understatement of titanic proportions. \u201cMortal enemies\u201d would be a better description. Normally, he didn\u2019t touch the stuff, but Angela and two of her friends were slamming and they invited him to join in.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBeat all three of us and I\u2019ll snog you,\u201d she offered.<\/span><\/p>\n

Paul was never one to turn down a challenge anyway, but this time the prize on offer was definitely<\/i> worth having. He tried to act cool, gulped down his nerves and said, \u201cAnd if one of you beat me?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t know. We\u2019ll think of something, won\u2019t we girls? Best two out of three?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, you\u2019re on.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Three glasses of the evil fire-water later, Paul and Angela were sitting on her bed, four rooms down from his, and he was cleaning her tonsils with his tongue. She tasted as good as he had imagined\u2014like strawberries and vanilla ice-cream sprinkled with cinnamon. He had one hand on the back of her head and fondled her boobs with the other. When they eventually came up for air, all Paul could do to sit and stare.<\/span><\/p>\n

Say something clever,<\/span><\/i> said the voice in his head that had been drinking orange juice all night. This might be your only chance. Say something witty. Make it memorable.<\/p>\n

<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAngela, you\u2019re fucking gorgeous, you know?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Is that the best you could come up with? Fucking hell, I\u2019m putting in for a transfer.<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Angela stared back at him, her eyes twinkling like sapphires. She shook her head and her black hair fell around her shoulders. \u201cYou really think so?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I can\u2019t believe this. Worst line you\u2019ve ever used with and it might actually work. Don\u2019t fuck this up!<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cGod, yeah. You\u2019re fucking top drawer.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Angela\u2019s smile widened. \u201cI thought gentlemen preferred blondes?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Careful. Careful. <\/span><\/i>\u201cOh, they do.\u201d Fuck! You\u2019ve fucked it up, moron!<\/i> \u201cBut I\u2019m no gentleman.\u201d Ohhh, good save<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s good. \u2018Cause I\u2019m no lady, either.\u201d She threw herself at him, locking her lips to his. This time it was Paul\u2019s tonsils that required cleaning. The little fella in his boxers sprang to life\u2014at least brewer\u2019s droop wasn\u2019t going to be a problem.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It\u2019s Thursday. Nearly another whole week out of the way and another week where I\u2019ve not achieved even close to half the things I wanted to get done. No website updates, hardly any blogging done, hardly any blogging read, and I can\u2019t even blame Football Manager 2005 because I haven\u2019t been playing that either. And it\u2019s not like I\u2019ve been snowed under at work, because I haven\u2019t. I don\u2019t think the weather helps \u2013 it\u2019s muggy and humid and hot and sticky and yet there\u2019s almost no sun. We did manage to sit in the beer garden at the back of the pub across the road yesterday lunchtime to enjoy fish and chips and a pint, but that\u2019s about it. Headache weather the girls in the office call it. They\u2019re not wrong \u2013 I\u2019m getting through Nurofen like nobody\u2019s business. Still, life goes on. I believe I now have a finished draft of \u201cPrivate Party\u201d. I\u2019ll go over it once more today before submission. It topped out at nearly 4500 words and now has a stronger opening than before and more of the \u2018inner voice\u2019 during the sex scene, which the fishies at the tank told me they quite liked. I just hope I haven\u2019t over done it. Short extract follows below. I\u2019ve also managed to follow up one of my outstanding submissions. \u201cPublic Performance\u201d has been accepted by Ruthie\u2019s Club. I\u2019ll let you know the date for publication when I have it. I haven\u2019t heard from Phaze yet about \u201cCharlotte\u2019s Secret\u201d. I know it\u2019s only been ten days, but I\u2019m forever an optimist. Its not on my calendar to follow up for another few days, but damn it, I\u2019m an impatient bastard at times. On this occasion, however, I\u2019ll have to wait. From \u201cPrivate Party\u201d Paul and Jack spent the evening trying out cheesy chat-up lines and collecting kisses from the female students. Jack pushed it too far with one of them and got a vodka and Coke thrown over his crotch. While Jack nipped back to his room to change his jeans, Paul started on the tequila. Paul and tequila had a history\u2014to say they didn\u2019t get along particularly well was an understatement of titanic proportions. \u201cMortal enemies\u201d would be a better description. Normally, he didn\u2019t touch the stuff, but Angela and two of her friends were slamming and they invited him to join in. \u201cBeat all three of us and I\u2019ll snog you,\u201d she offered. Paul was never one to turn down a challenge anyway, but this time the prize on offer was definitely worth having. He tried to act cool, gulped down his nerves and said, \u201cAnd if one of you beat me?\u201d She shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t know. We\u2019ll think of something, won\u2019t we girls? Best two out of three?\u201d \u201cOkay, you\u2019re on.\u201d Three glasses of the evil fire-water later, Paul and Angela were sitting on her bed, four rooms down from his, and he was cleaning her tonsils with his tongue. She tasted as good as he had imagined\u2014like strawberries and vanilla ice-cream sprinkled with cinnamon. He had one hand on the back of her head and fondled her boobs with the other. When they eventually came up for air, all Paul could do to sit and stare. Say something clever, said the voice in his head that had been drinking orange juice all night. This might be your only chance. Say something witty. Make it memorable. \u201cAngela, you\u2019re fucking gorgeous, you know?\u201d Is that the best you could come up with? Fucking hell, I\u2019m putting in for a transfer. Angela stared back at him, her eyes twinkling like sapphires. She shook her head and her black hair fell around her shoulders. \u201cYou really think so?\u201d I can\u2019t believe this. Worst line you\u2019ve ever used with and it might actually work. Don\u2019t fuck this up! \u201cGod, yeah. You\u2019re fucking top drawer.\u201d Angela\u2019s smile widened. \u201cI thought gentlemen preferred blondes?\u201d Careful. Careful. \u201cOh, they do.\u201d Fuck! You\u2019ve fucked it up, moron! \u201cBut I\u2019m no gentleman.\u201d Ohhh, good save \u201cThat\u2019s good. \u2018Cause I\u2019m no lady, either.\u201d She threw herself at him, locking her lips to his. This time it was Paul\u2019s tonsils that required cleaning. The little fella in his boxers sprang to life\u2014at least brewer\u2019s droop wasn\u2019t going to be a problem.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":225744,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"templates\/template-full-width.php","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[156,2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1552","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-156","category-blog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1552","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1552"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1552\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/225744"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1552"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1552"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marcnobbs.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1552"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}