Fishcakes, chips and mushy peas, my love/hate affaire with London

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I’m going to write this in the vernacular because I love the East London accent.

Actually, I guess ‘cos I live in the eastend it should ‘ave bin jellied eels and liquor (pronounced lick her without the aitch). Before we go further, lets discuss jellied eels, you can still get them in the pie ‘n’ mash shops, they are bloody awful things to eat. Well not so  bad, I wouldn’t recommend them to most as they take a bit of getting used to, sort of like slimy fishy mud, like carp with less personality, the liquor is a watered down parsley sauce made with the water from boiling the eels. I once had the chum from the US (septic in rhyming slang), he was from Atlanta, studied his masters at the LSE and was messed up when it came to women.

He stayed at my place for a few nights and wanted the total eastend experience, so I fucked him up by making him eat jellied eels, took him to an old mans boozer (rubbah – as in rub-a-dub-dub = pub) for a tumble (drink tumble down the sink – that’s a weird one). I knew him via my then girlfriend a former Russian model and size queen, who had problems with measurement.

The two of them should have really been together he fancied her, she was pretty nuts. I didn’t have any options about being her boyfriend, she latched on to me quite heavily, as an example she turned up on my doorstep suitcase in hand telling me she’d been thrown out of her flat. So she moved in. As I said she was a size queen and one of the things I’ve often noticed about size queens is that the previous boyfriends one was always bigger, oh! yawn! well you can always go back to him love, I’m not your keeper.

For some reason she liked telling every one what a good shag I was, it was quite embarrassing, mainly because I couldn’t reciprocate the sentiment. One afternoon we were in bed, doing it doggy stylee, she was face in the pillow, making lots of high pitched yelping noises and it was looking quite contrived. While we were at it I suddenly remembered the dishes needed doing and off I went to do them, all of a sudden a very irate Russian stormed into the kitchen to demand to know where I’d gone. I looked at her and went whoops sorry love. It’s a difficult thing to tell someone they are a bit mediocre in the sack, especially when they think they are a rockstar fuck.

Me, I don’t think that at all I try to be halfway decent, listen and pay attention, find the ways that my partner enjoys it and fingers crossed we have good sex. I’m lucky in that respect now-a-days, my wife is an exceptional shag and we’ve always enjoyed getting busy together. Now that we have children the adventurousness and athleticism has pretty much gone and we’re not going to have an environment where kinkster comes before kids, there are things that we haven’t done as a couple but have done before we got together so there is no need for kinksteriness as we’ve had our threesomes, group sex, buggery and toys.

So eels and liquor not the best meal it can lead you to  awkward places, I should have made him eat the fishcakes,chips and mushy peas.

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