Hi, Poppy, I am from a rugby playing nation.
ONE chuffing vote!
Shall I explain what is wrong with that? Yes, I blooming well shall.
I like to think that somewhere out there sits a myriad of rugby players (collective noun for regular rugby players is a “mud” but for the glorious rugby players the correct term is “myriad”) all waiting for my next post.
I realise that there may be one or two flaws in my thinking. But let us not be doubters. Let us be positive because this is the internet and anything is possible.
(I know that because I have seen the pictues. Can anyone tell me why no matter what I look up, within one or two pages there is a picture of a lady giving “oral pleasure” to a man? You would not believe the things I have seen whilst looking up winter pictures, but I will say no more.)
This is what happens.
The All Blacks (swoon, thud) have a rogourous training session. They do lots of running around and jumping and stuff. Did I lose anyone there with my technical jargon? And then they pootle off (in a very manly manner) to the showers. We shall not follow them there; let us respect their personal space. I am much more interested in them dressed, as my interest is not sexual.
Once clean and dressed they go their separate ways with as little chat as possible. After all, they have somewhere to be.
Each man goes to his lap top, computer or phone, in his house, flat or wagon (this is my fantasy) and types in www.poppystvincent.com.
(This is the All Blacks when they realise the internet has gone down.)
They then read my blit, with their fertile little imaginations running on overdrive whilst imagining all the things they would do to me were they ever to get their (very big, very strong) hands on me.
I think a big strong rugby player could flip me over his knee with narry a sidewards glance. I think he would too. I think that is what they are like.
So, all the rugby players that read me (hush, doubters, do not pop my bubble) must have clicked another button.
That just goes to show what individual and unpredictable men they are. (This man is a Brit, Andrew Sheridan, in case anyone writes in concerned that I am confused.)
(Somewhere there is a Welsh woman saying, “But it was me, I clicked that one.” I know she is there but she is so kind she will let me dream.)
But do you know what this question really showed me? That I am properly, properly learning to play and be silly. I am learning to relax and write just what I want to without being in the least ashamed of my silliness.
Poppy, I have never seen a rugby match, but I simply must check one out now. And I think that all the rugby players clicked on either “I will not be constrained to a prewritten comment”…because, let’s face it, they are rugby players and therefore rebels; or “given half a chance I would spank you” because they are obviously Toppity Tops.
Poppy, I dearly and truly love how silly you are. Please never stop.
I do not know about this rugby thing. I am not from a rugby playing nation. I knew some rugby players in college, but they were confused about where they came from, and they have faded off into the sunset wearing jumpers and living in flats and having pudding.
They were cute, though.
Well. How about that? Vertical stripes do make her bottom look plump, and most pleasingly plump in fact.
Hm? Rugby players? Oh yes. Adorable. All of them. You bet. Very manly too. Absolutely. Do carry on.
(giggling) Does “chuffing” get past the Professor censor?
I do believe that with those heavy, muscular arms and those thick, hard hands, they must have very big fingers, too. So of course, they all clicked the wrong button. Accidentally. They couldn’t help it.
Play on, Poppy.
Poppy, good morning.
:
I too come from a rugby playing nation.
When young I also played this gentleman’s game.
I love the thought of you being playful and silly.
Dev’s impression of Bertie Wooster is quite impressive.
TGIF, have a good one.
Love and warm hugs,
Paul.
Popsicle, the other week we did a naked calendar for charity, all the sports teams did (it wasn’t too naked, don’t worry – well, we weren’t, at least) and when we arrived all the rugby boys were absolutely starkers and we saw everything. Then they turned into wimps and were like, “The girls are here! The girls are here! Noooo!” But the photographer said it was their own faults for being late. So we watched. Hehe.
Erica, yes, I saw that word and it is allowed. I know it’s a euphemism, and I encourage that over the alternative.
Paul, thanks! I think.
Viola, I truly have no idea how to respond to that.
So from this I’m learning that women like to watch Rugby because they like looking at the male players. I might have known. But somehow I thought maybe the women around here might be more high-minded, on account of the no-swearing and such.
And Viola, you’ve rendered Devlin speechless! You’re so unabashed about such things as liking to look at naked men. Not to worry, I’m sure it won’t be permanent.
Is feather mucking allowed? That’s a euphemism. Sort of.
Naked rugby players are nice. Shouldn’t have stood around naked if they didn’t want people to see, should they?
I almost never get to see naked rugby players, Viola. I am glad you took full advantage of the opportunity. Who knows when it will come again?
I grew up in a football mad city so never really understood rugby, but methinks, I am missing something. Hunky men running round field, what else do I need to understand! Hmmm I live near a rugby ground too!
So much to catch up on.
In future work is banned on a Friday.
Kate, please watch some rugby and if I thought that the rugby players had clicked on the spanking one I would pass out with joy.
Scarlet, I just burned my rissotto (trying to be all clever on a Friday night) then I made beans on toast and I burned it. My tea was rubbish. Shall we go out for cake and not tell your trainer lady?
Dev, they are manly. May I have some cake now? Or chocolate? Or chocolate cake.
Erica, chuffing is the best word ever. I suggest you use it a lot. It is not even a little bit rude.
Paul, my Friday needs chocolate. I just know you would give me some if you could. May I come round to your house and have a cup of tea and some chocolate?
Viola, you lucky, lucky strumpet.
Karl, it is the fact that they are so big and they have such self control that is what makes them so attractive. So you are right about the no swearing thing as an indication of why they make us go all wibbly.
Alice, you really should go and watch a match. It will make you giggle like a schoolgirl.
Football is yuk.
Rugby is yay.
That is the law.
Poppy, I am all dressed now and ready for cake . I am wearing sunglasses as a disguise in case we run into the evil trainer demon.
Poppy,
you would be so welcome.
I have bars of Green and Black just sitting there and taunting me.
I’m about to make myself a large mug of Green and Black hot chocolate, I’d love to share one with you. ;D
Sweet dreams, I hope that you dream about Himself.
Love and warm hugs,
Paul.
Hurrah!
May I wear my jammies? And my slippers? I will be there in a tick and you can tell me story until Dev comes home.
I have never seen a rugby match. I did once know a rugby player, but she was a woman.
The men in your photos look entirely too large and loud. You may all have them, I’ll just wait over here for a nice quiet man in a well cut suit
although they’re probably quite good at giving massages. Perhaps I will borrow one from time to time…