The Truth...

...is not on my blog.

It's more the truth as I see it, edited for anonymity and entertainment value.


Mr. UK and I had a lovely Kurdish dinner last night, and an interesting conversation about things you should never ask your lover/date/mate.

There are a long list of questions to which I will always reply "Are you SURE you want to know the answer to that?"

If they think they do, I will always tell the truth, but most men don't want to know the truth. They're fishing for a specific answer, and it's one they rarely get.

"How many men have you been with?"
"Am I the best lover you've ever had?"
"Do you love me more than ---?"

"Are you SURE you want to know?"


Mr. UK is bright enough not to ask me questions he doesn't REALLY want to know the answer to. He knows damn well I'll tell the truth. He can't believe the number of men who torture themselves with it.

On the other hand, he continues (with my permission) to read my blog.

"You hated it the other morning? But we've had morning sex before...you seemed to enjoy it...didn't you?"

"Nooo...yes...Damn. I just don't like morning sex in general. Morning sex with YOU is fun. Yes, I enjoy it. It just prompted a thought, and I wrote that thought down. Nothing personal, really. Honest. In fact, we can go back to bed right now, and I'll PROVE how much I like morning sex with you..."

I've had to explain very carefully that my thoughts are not the literal truth. That not everything I've written is congruent with time/date/place/person I'm with/things I've said or done before.

That Beavis wasn't really that big a prick to me. I just felt at the time that he'd been quite a jerk.

That I actually like dates in bookstores, but AT THE SAME TIME feel they're cheesy and overdone.

That I reserve the right, as a complex human being, to contradict myself whenever circumstances warrant.

I love Mr UK. In the end, he completely understood. And I told him he can keep on reading...as long as he thinks he can handle 'the truth'...

...and yeah, in case you're wondering, we really DID break the bathtub...