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Tuesday - January 01, 2002
In my journal entry Snow White Wasn't A Voodoo Hermaphrodite I talked about how the johns can still throw me. What I failed to mention is that, very often, my favorite partners in crime like to shock my buttons off too.
I spent a great deal of the weekend talking to Rio and Randy. Rio is not only my madame, but just one of the most slamming people I know. Randy is a horny Canadian web genius with a one-track mind - so we all meshed well. Together they are trying to further pervert me, which is fun in itself.
While testing out Team Sound software (for nefarious reasons I won't go into here) we actually had a pretty clear, on-line chat session. No phones. Just headphones, microphones, and enough sexual innuendo to put Oscar Wilde to shame.
Randy likes to just lie in wait for me to utter the doomed-to-be-proven-wrong phrase "there's no such thing." The other day, I was proven wrong in a variety of venues, including computer plug-in cybersex hardware. Folks, I know I'm a phone slut and I'm supposed to know all about it - but this was a new one on me. There was also my silly denial of the fact that there just couldn't be a gas-powered sex toy on the market. That'll teach me. After Randy supplied this link all I could say was "Texas Chainsaw Ouch."
Problem is, I've given Rio and Randy an opportunity to team up, and they did just that. The now-familiar "come to Vegas" chanting has escalated to new decibels. You see, Randy is a webhead, and Rio runs a phone sex empire, so they both frequent the many sex expos and conventions the industry has to offer. And they are BOTH constantly trying to woo me into attending these pageants of sex-industry mayhem. I feel like Little Nell standing by the side of corruption's pool, dipping in my toes to test the temperature while they shout and tease for me to dive on in.
Randy also unearthed the site for I'm a Cow, which I haven't been able to get out of my head for days. It's just…wrong (but hilarious). Be warned, if you click on it - the song's addictive. Although, the recorded version has nothing on Randy and Mae's nibblet belting it out. You really cannot imagine what it sounds like to hear a four-year-old crooning "get your mind out the gutter, get your hand off my udder, moooo-oooo…."
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