Wednesday, 29 September 2010

Extramarital dating site Ashley Madison

Gross. Just....gross. I'd never heard of this site before but, judging by the dubious headline, "Life's Too Short, Have An Affair", CEO Noel Biderman sounds like he has about as much understanding and empathy for cheating spouses as Nick Griffin has for victims of racial hate-crimes. The site is launching in the UK, and every bit of press I read makes me want to break something.

Okay...maybe that's a bit strong. But he does look and sound like The World's Biggest Douchebag. I quote;

"We tried to advertise during the Superbowl but the NFL said, 'No, we're not going to allow this ad'. This is the NFL, whose players are arrested for sexual assault, for drunk driving and attempted murder. They're going to be the bastion of morality for America? That's ridiculous."

You can't SELL infidelity moron. Why would you wish to impose an idea like 'How's about shagging around?' on a stadium of unsuspecting football fans? Completely inappropriate. Affairs are something to be conducted in private, not a commodity to be advertised at huge public events. And advertising them is ridiculous anyway - as if the decision to have one could be equated with the decision to buy a new television.

As a cheater myself, and one that uses a different dating site, I just think this guy has got it all wrong. By all means create a platform for extramarital liaisons - I have such a platform to thank for transforming my life over the last two years - but don't shove it in people's faces...and don't say that 200,000 Londoners should be using it by Christmas, because they probably shouldn't. What a brash, Americanised method of promotion.

Rant over. ;)

Monday, 27 September 2010

The second wave...

I'm sure some of my long-term readers (hello there, guys!) may remember when I first started having my affair. The effect it had on my marital sex life was...bizzarre. Suddenly, after years of paying me about as much attention as one would a potted plant in student accomodation, he was all over me like an aggressive rash.

As things are picking up again with my secret life, my marriage is following suit. This morning, Hubby woke me up with breakfast in bed (it was 6.30am and I've got to admit I wasn't immediately thrilled...I just wanted to damage something), and then proceeded to initiate sex. INITIATE. I nearly passed out from shock. Nearly.

For context, Hubby and I have sex less than once every two months, and it is, without fail, me who makes the first move. This change of spots is both unnerving and very, very welcome. I've never stopped fancying him; though his charms are a little worn, he is still the man I fell in love all those years ago. Just with a bit more podge and a bit less hair.

His new found interest in my naughty bits couldn't be better timed; The Doctor is on a month of nights so can't see me at all for the next few weeks. I just pray that it lasts!


Monday, 20 September 2010


The evolution of BoredWivesClub in this last week has filled me with an overwhelming urge to wield the Upper Crust baguette on my desk like a microphone and bellow Michael Jackson's 'You Are Not Alone' into it. Seriously. So many inspiring/appalling stories! Exactly what myself and the girls were hoping for.

In other news….


Mondays are less suspicious right? Only middle-aged people do exciting things on Mondays. Though I'd hate to think my idea of excitement is middle-aged. This evening, supermarket champagne, a cheap hotel room, and some very expensive underwear.

Right now I am staring at various Excel sheets hoping they will evaporate into thin (virtual) air. Sadly nothing has happened yet, except that I got a bit teary because I was squinting and our new intern asked me if I was okay.

Sadly, he's not a patch on New Boy. Thank Christ I've got the Stethoscope Stud to keep me company or I could've found myself inexplicably attracted to said intern. His 'beard' consists of 16 single hairs and he smells a bit like a football locker. Oh dear.

Friday, 10 September 2010

A little project...

So, after having kept this blog for GOD KNOWS how long, I have had something rather interesting brewing under my hat (clumsy mashed simile) for the last month. Now, as we're nearly ready to launch, I think it's time to tell you guys about it.

It's a website, and it's called The Bored Wives Club. My friend Mia and I came up with the idea way way way while bitching about our respective partners over coffee. She is still to this day one of the only people who knows about my extramarital dalliances. Anyway, we were lamenting the fact that, as professional women with overly-secure houses, we rarely get the chance to natter to our female neighbors about our partners' ineptitudes over the garden fence...despite the fact that both of us have enough grievances to fill a 800-page novel.

Long story short, I suggested we start a blog that gives women a space to rant about their marital lives. For about a year, nothing really happened, but then Mia met Rose, a designer, at a conference a while back, and casually mentioned our little brainchild...

Well. 4 months later, the three of us have given birth to the BWC. The site isn't live yet, but it will be very very soon. I'm sooooooo excited, and will be forwarding it to all my friends this weekend to get some stuff on there. Will post a link ASAP babies.

Joy! xx

Monday, 6 September 2010

My music loving best friend...

is such a darling. Every week I get these bizzarre indie gems piling up in my work inbox. And when I can sneak out the headphones on my lunchbreak I sometimes allow myself a little boogie at my desk. This week, a tasteful Toto cover. Now there are two words I never thought I'd type in the same sentence....

What? Yes, they had some great songs. But they also had cheap sounding synthesizers and incredibly bad hair. And as far as I can, this band have neither of those things. Ace!


Friday, 3 September 2010


Thursday. Was. Exhausting.

In a good way, natch. The Doctor (or Stethoscope Stud, as I have now taken to calling him) met me straight after work. I had done a sort of rom com-worthy trasnformation from Work Shelly to Super-Vamp Adulteress Michelle, using the staff bathrooms at work as a kind of Mr Ben-esque closet. Except of course when I opened the door out to my office I hadn't been magically transported to a zoo. And I wasn't been voiced-over by Terry Wogan. Which, in context, would have been more than a little distracting.

Anyway; we met just around the corner from my office. Doctor wore a crisp suit that looked so expensive I was a bit wary of touching him (don't worry...I definitely got over that). We had a quick coffee and then raced off to our hotel suite for what can only be described as onlythebestsexIhaveeverhadinmylifeever. Hubby was elsewhere occupied with friends for the evening, meaning I didn't have to be so strict with my curfew. We stayed rolling around in our own filth for about 4 hours, before I had to make a shift exit (via the shower and some strategic clothing-adjustment) at 11pm. FOUR HOURS. I do not know the last time I stayed awake and in bed for that long...let alone in bed with a living human male. I was so giddy on leaving that I forgot to put one of my stockings on and really unnerved a junior porter who got in the same lift as me. He just kept staring agressively at my right leg, as if to say 'How dare you brazenly disregard the basic rules of getting dressed? What are you, some kind of fingerless invalid?'. I just coughed uncomfortably and got out a floor early.

It is just over a week later and I fear I'm still walking like a benched footballer.