Sunday - June 30, 2002
Summer Stock

It has been a lazy month. I could go into a long, rambling narrative, detailing all the imperative projects and things that have kept me from updating here. But, like the season, I'm just too lazy. It's sunny outside. The beach is yummy. I'll be back sometime before November. Honest.

Of course, with Summer comes slower business in the phone sex industry. Kids are home, the beach is so damn inviting, it's easier (and cheaper) to go to the mall and oogle girls in skimpy outfits. So, you know, there is a crimp for some of us phone sluts when the mercury rises.

It also means Wanker Season is at a frenzy.

Poor Rio and dispatchers. Honestly, folks, dispatching is a job that you just couldn't pay me enough to do. Imagine any fuckwit with a telephone cranking you every thirty seconds. Teenage boys randomly dialing toll-free numbers. Guys with issues of Hustler, no credit cards, and too much spare time.

Now, the only fun part of Wanker Season is Caller-ID. Because people who are stupid enough to crank call a phone sex line are rarely intelligent enough to realize that these days all phones are LoJacked. Rio likes to wait until dinnertime and call them back - asking for wives and mothers. Women are so much more reasonable about these things *evil grin*. Imagine, if you will, getting the phone call that your son/husband has been harassing phone sex lines in their spare time. Muuuaaaahhhhhaaaaaa.

It's even more fun when they call from work.

Now, please don't get me wrong. Ordinarily Rio and all phone sex operators tend to be, by our very nature, discrete. It's just good business. You want johns to feel safe. And, for the most part, legitimate callers have no worries with any reputable business.

But when you crank-call a toll-free number you're committing a crime. No, honest, you are. The call is free for the caller, but it cost the owner of the number money. And money is the name of the game, sweetheart. Besides, it can really add up. So, calling a wife or mother is a lot nicer than, say, calling the police - which do have to file reports and follow up.

We are bad-ass bitches. Don't fuck with us. Muuuaaaahhhhhaaaaaa.

Yeah, okay, so my Cruella DeVille routine is a bit out of practice. I was trying to sound daunting.

In other news, the mother and pups have been returned to their rightful owner. Blythe's room is returning to normal (following some nice scented candles and serious laundry) and the strange cries and squirming noises are gone. It wasn't the most demanding couple of weeks, but it was a minor pain in the ass. Interesting experience. I'd do it again (especially since Blythe did most of the hard parts) but you know, not on purpose.

I'm adding two new subsections to the site. They are small tidbits now, but I'm hoping they'll develop over time. They're both in the Special Features section. The first is Safe Porn Surfing 101. These are just tips and tricks that many of you probably already employ. But, since this has been the Summer of web viruses from hell and all, I'd share. If you know a good one, email me and I'll add it next update. I'm also adding Real Sluts which is just one entry right now, but I intend to add to it as I meet more girls. Basically it's women who I've met online or otherwise who use their real pictures and real identities in the industry. Bravo to them.

Hopefully, next update I'll be able to add the Ask the Phone Slut section. I think it'll be a hoot to give you all a peek into my digital mailbag.

Well, that's all for the moment, campers.

Life is warm and sunny. I'm grabbing up my Coppertone and heading out again.


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