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Friday - May 17, 2002
Down To The Whelping Post
There is a pregnant dog in the house.
And there are so many things out of whack with that statement I don't know where to begin. But let's start with the fact that I don't OWN a dog. That seems
a jolly place to start.
Blythe and I are currently housing an unwed mother. China Bear.
Isn't she just the cutest fucking thing? Said mutt is fidgeting and whining and attempting to wiggle her ample belly into the laundry hamper every time we turn around. She likes to chew on soft things -pillows, blankets...panties. Grrr.
She is the property of Blythe's sister who lives with a roommate that I will be putting up for Darwin Awards nomination next round. One day explain to me how an adult could be so bloody clueless as to tie a bitch in heat to a post in an UNFENCED yard. It boggles the mind. But, since Blythe's sister has a day job and my work is home-based. it seemed logical to have our first-time mommy stay in a place with 24 hour surveillance. Besides this means I get first dibs on a genuine mixed breed pup of my own. Although I've typically been a girl who has poodles and shish-tzus I think a pot luck mutt is just what may be in store. Who knows.
Not much of an update to the site this time around. I'm working on a new gallery and I'll try and have some new fiction and audio up next time.
Had a nice chat with a new caller from the site not long ago. Baron Antenet is a different chap, and just keeps adding to the delightful experiences I keep having of men who discover me though the site. His is really a lush and imaginative sensuality - with a fertile score of possibilities to play with. I am starting to develop a sincere fondness for men who like to both fuck and be fucked. There's something endearingly free about their manners.
He did, however, remark that it seemed I encouraged my johns to fall in love with me on my site. And, I must say that it sent me screeching in my tracks. Certainly I talk about my johns with equal measure affection and appreciation and teasing and, I suppose, even scorn. But I try to stress at all times that this "relationship" is strictly a flight of fancy, a service of sensuality rendered (and rendered damn well) but a fancy, nonetheless.
When I talk about johns who leave large tips, send gifts, call repeatedly, or at length, it isn't because that is what I expect of every caller - far from it. It's just that these are the men who stand out. Let's face it, if you're a waitress at Denny's, growing familiar with the troublemakers and red-eyed creatures of the night and a nicely dressed man comes in who leaves twenty dollar bills for tips, you don't fall in love with him, nor do you expect him to fall for you. But you do make damn fucking sure his coffee cup is always full, his eggs are cooked right, and he keeps sitting in your station. And you better believe when someone asks how your day was, the man and his tip will be at the forefront of the narrative to follow.
I guess I'm over-justifying. The comment left me feeling a bit predatory even though I much prefer to characterize myself as symbiotic.
Oh. And I was totally bummed that Sean got booted off the island. Even though I'm still hoping Kathy takes it all the way. I'm happy that there is now a 3:1 chance that a woman will walk away with the million, but the problem is, I only like one of those women. Although Marquesas has certainly been interesting (I still say John, Zoe, Tammy, and Robert need to have their heads shaved for lobotomy class), I'm disappointed at the group that made it to the merge. Alas, poor Hunter...we hardly knew ye.
Yeah, I know. I can't believe I watch it, either. But at least I have the presence of mind to be ashamed of it
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