Rankings

Last nite D-boy took me to dinner. D-boy = Danny. This was originally supposed to be 'a double date'. Total cornball term from 1950's movies, I can't believe that's what he suggested we do when he called me earlier in the week. Danny, his brother from Whorelando, me and Nicki. But Nicki is done with all things Whorelando and knows that the doctor, Danny's brother, was only looking for a convenience fuck in Miami. So instead of Danny, Michael, Nicki and Sara, flash back 50 years, it would be Bobby, Tad, Veronica and Ginger going on a double date to the drive-in. No one in the Buick watching the horror flick double feature, we would all be 'making out'. Ewwww no wonder why Nicki took a pass on the past.

But I said yes to the dinner, I don't like passing up free meals especially since I find it impossible to cook for myself, cooking for one? Does it exist? Or is it just a facet of my anorexia that I find it hard to cook for myself. In any case, I felt like a restaurant meal, the whole schmiel. (I can't spell in Yiddish, slave fatfuck taught me phonetically.)

The awkward moment was after dinner, when Danny wanted to head out to any club that wasn't doing a Michael Jackson tribute, I had to concur, I could only take so much of hearing Thriller, Billie Jean remixes, etc etc over and over. So we went to a Cuban place. Danny is Brazilian, well his parents are, so I'm sure we passed for Cubano y Cubanita. I had my favorite Mojitos. Danny was getting amorous, to throw out an old-fashioned word, but I was resistant.

Somehow I can't stand the thought of fucking a guy who is like fucking quite a few other women, women I don't know, I feel like I'm just the calendar girl, log me in on the i-phone as the Friday nite fuck. Maybe I should just look at it like well I need to get fucked too, but there are other guys I have for that, who aren't such man-whores and one is who superstellar in bed. So it's ok for me to fuck whoever I want, whenever I want, I'm fronting a double standard, yet I want a guy to be more selective, more into me? Well yes, hell yes!!! Danny comes in 3rd in my fuck rankings right now. Do girls ever tell guys that? I'm sorry but you're like #3 on my fuck rankings, I'd rather text #1 or #2 to see if they're available.

Or check out new meat....

So I told him I had planned to work, meaning on Niteflirt, which was partially true, it was my back-up plan, so I told him I needed to get back home to hit my prime time, after midnite, make some $$$. He asked how much I expected to make. I wondered why he was asking. Was it out of curiosity? Or was he going to make an offer to buy me out for the nite? So I told him. He gave me a look, a look of disbelief that what I do on Niteflirt can yield that kind of rake. So? I said. There was this very awkward moment where he just looked at me. I could tell he was considering, considering, but he didn't reach for his wallet, didn't make the buy-out offer. Pussy. Total pussy. Because I know he has the money and it wouldn't be like I was a whore, at least by my definition, and even if, so what, I'd make it either way, in the real world or the virtual world.

So I left and caught a cab home. I shut off my cell phone too, I was that pissed. When I got home, I had that itchy feeling to check my cell phone to see if he had called and he had left a message for me to call him back, but I didn't, but there was a message from #1!!!! So I quickly called #1! but only got his VM, called again, VM. Called Nicole and called another girl I know he fucks to see if they were the lucky fuckees, but no. I knew Nicole would be working, but wanted to see if she would have faked a late arrival, flat tires are good excuses for that, in order to get fucked by #1. (Nicole gets more flat tires than anyone else I know hehe.) Then today, #1 called and apologized profusely, he fell asleep, exhausted, hmmmm....ok. I'll let it slip this time.

So I ended up on Niteflirt till 5:30am then broke out one of my toys for my 'sleeping pill' orgasm. I felt like the loneliest and horniest girl in the world.

Casa del Fatfuck Part Tres

I made another visit to my slave who is recuping from QBS (quadruple bypass surgery). Part Tres featured a surprise: bringing faggyboy Adam (aka jewfro boy), fatfuck's designated cocksuckee with me, posing as my faux boyfriend in case the guardian to the gates of fatfuck's money, better known as Mrs. Fatfuck, was in the hacienda. Prompting a fag on how to play straight was really hard to do, because while Adam claims to be bi, he's really a fag, and tends to put together outfits that are gay, so I had to school him on what to wear to this event and how to act. Faggyboy got paid $100, basically I cut him $100 out of my appearance fee. I should make more appearances! My cover story: I work as a staff girl in one of fatfuck's offices. I never worked for fatfuck, my sister did and reported that he hired only hotties (after all we are talking about plastic surgery offices, so image is important) and fatfuck liked to terrorize his staff, which was why when my sister finally turned the tables on him and enslaved him, it was sweet revenge. So it would not be out of the realm of possibility, that I could work for fatfuck, or that Mrs. Fatfuck would not be surprised by the hotness of any of the staff showing up to cheer up the old fat fuck.

Fatfuck was pretty jovial and looked much healthier than he had before. He had his laptop and widescreen and ipod and a few books laying around to keep him busy, he better be worshipping me on the laptop since I emailed pics of me, no nakey ones, lest I tip his BP too high.

We didn't run into the Mrs. Fatfuck creature, but we did encounter one of the junior fatfucks who is in his last year of med school. I am now calling him Whopper Junior. He was cordial to us and thanked us for visiting his father, clueing us in that his father is quite bored and wants to be back in the swing of things. Speaking of the swing of things, Whopper Junior invited us to a pool party he and Whopper (other fatfuck junior) were going to be holding this weekend, but before Adam could open his faggy mouth, I said my boyfriend (I almost vom'd when I said that word) and I already had plans to go windsurfing. Wow, Whopper Junior said, that takes so much skill, I've tried waterskiing and wakeboarding and parasailing but I admit watersports aren't my thing. Now I could have vom'd again at the irony, because watersports of the other kind are his father's thing, so just wait Whopper Junior, just wait.

Pole Dancing for Big Black Cock

"might be worth it to get some of these white pigs to learn to pole dance for BBC" -- blog commenter

Actually, Nicole wanted to force her slave poolboy (who chickened out on her) to Club Lexx (the black strip club in Miami) and make him suck BBC for her in the parking lot**, a private room in the club, or even the men's room, whatever it would take. I can picture him swinging around the pole, much to the laughter of all the black ballas, playas, brothas, etc., hooting and hollering at the white boy begging to smoke black pole. Now that would be a hott BBC fag porn that white pigs would jerk to.

**the parking lot is a source of major action, usually drugs 'n ho's, but poolboy would have been forced to cruise for cock, which is kind of a drug for white pigs anyway, so many are addicted to BBC!!!

Pole Dancing with the Sluts

Many of you have emailed re: Nicole's idea about how her pole dancing reality show sounds great. Some of you have even sent snippets about who already is a hot pole dancer, actress or otherwise:

1. Kate Hudson supposedly has one in her bedroom

2. Kim Kardashian's Mom has one in her bedroom for Bruce Jenner's enjoyment (ewwwww)

3. Britney Spears pole danced her way thru her music video for Gimme More looking more like a crack ho stripper

4. Jessica Biel plays a stripper / pole dancer in "Blue" (this movie isn't even hitting the big screen, guys will have to wack off to Jessica's hotness and boobies on DVD, it's going to direct to video, why oh why, don't movie execs think enough guys will pay to see it in the theater?)

Stripper poles are apparently hot accessories being installed in bedrooms or fantasy play rooms across the country! Yes, it's like: Here's the spa (hot tub), here's the wide screen tv and here's the stripper pole.

Well all I can say is if Nicole gets a reality show, I know she will force me to be one of the pole dancers, and while I would do it for Nicole's sake, I confess while I am good at contorting myself at yoga class, I am not good at swinging around a pole. I tried it when Nicole and I were planning an evil birthday party for Taylor a few years ago, the club was closed, and I really couldn't get the hang of it or the swing of it. Nicole was laughing her ass off. So I could never be a feature dancer, there goes my stripper career that never started haha. And to think Nicole wanted me to start stripping with her when we were both back in college years ago, I went onto Keen instead (now Niteflirt).

And from peewee, more encouragement:

Super idea! Pole Dancing is at an all time high right now, so Nicole should go for it. And if the celebrity angle proves too difficult and/or costly, Nicole could use the confidence inducing aspect of Pole Dancing to sell the 'Plain Jane' unleashes her repressed sexuality through dance idea. Soul enhancing pole dancing! Both men and women would enjoy watching girls-next-door letting their hair down and realizing their potential to become Pole Dancing hotties. As the attached Heather Graham article confirms, it's a perfect solution. Good luck Nicole - go for it!

Heather Graham on Pole Dancing!

Definately Dominate!!!

Half of my biggest pet peeve turns out to be the most misspelled word in the English language according to this article.

I wouldn't have guessed some of the other words on the list as being in the top 10. And the theorists are blaming texting / text messaging, but I don't think that misspelling 'definitely' as 'definately' has anything to do with texting. I use 'def' as a response to a text, such as:

Nicole: u coming 2movies w us 2nite?

Me: Def!

Who has time to type out definately or definitely while texting....

Fauxing with You

I really could kick myself in the ass for not exploiting the dating sites for slaves. Ember has been kicking ass and taking names and turning loser dates into cash. She collects $100 to $200 for coffee meet-ups or dinners, this to prove they are serious and funded and aren't losers and if they want to keep seeing her, same deal. And men are willing to pay. I guess they just factor it into the total amount they're willing to spend on dating and it's a sure thing, meaning the date that is, with a real girl, a pretty girl who they can fantasize might become their girlfriend.... But Ember won't sex them up, she sends them home horny, sometimes with assignments.

It's similar to the faux girlfriend angle I played out a year or so ago, but dropped, just got too busy and distracted to keep it up, but never thought of using the dating sites for fishing out the faux. But I even had another girlfriend who I rarely blog about who was using dating sites to meet men and then she would decide if they were worthy of sexing up or making them pay to see her again, not as an escort but to faux them. Why didn't I think of this. Ugh. Sometimes the obvious eludes me.

If men want escorts, there are plenty to choose from on Eros or Craigslist. If men want to spend time with a real girl, they still have to pay. Men always have to pay, that is the ultimate, ultimate bottom line. Sex or no sex.

So if you see ads for me in the near future on dating sites, ha! I'm not interested in dating, I'm interested in fauxing.

Casa del Fatfuck Part II : Invasion of the Nurse Practitioners

Nicki went to see fatfuck Friday afternoon after her last class of the day in her summer CRNP program. She encountered the elusive creature known as Mrs. Fatfuck whom she reported was "a roly poly cow", with a platinum helmet of what might have been either hair or a wig. Mrs. Fatfuck was obviously aggravated by the commotion of all the visitors. She exchanged bitchy pleasantries with Nicki. "Oh you're studying to be a nurse practitioner, you're trying to put my sons out of business, you nurse practitioners. All the money we've invested in our sons' futures and nurse practitioners are taking over. At least you can't do surgeries, but who knows next they'll start training you to do that, they already have robots doing surgeries, so they might as well let you nurse practitioners cut people open too."

Nicki said fatfuck's heart rate skyrocketed as soon as she sashayed into his room. Fatfuck dismissed Cristobal so he could spend a few minutes alone with Nicki. (Oh the irony because we are shiksas!) He told Nicki he is proud that we have achieved the level we have in the medical field. My sister thanked fatfuck for his "contributions". "Couldn't have done it without you!"

The envelope I picked up from the law office of XYZ&X contained my usual weekly session amount. The envelope was handed to me by a secretary or paralegal who gave me some kind of smug look. I'm sure she was thinking I was fatfuck's plaything picking up a little play money until he could get back to playing live. Nicki gets to pick up her envelope on Monday. I bet the law office will be abuzz that fatfuck has 2 shiksa playthings! How could this be when he weighs close to 300 pounds and the lard must bury the playstick? Little do they know what we do to the playdoh-balls....

Casa del Fatfuck

Today I visited my slave fatfuck at his house. Fatfuck, my numero uno slave, is recovering from quadruple bypass surgery. In this covert operation, I pretended to be someone who worked at his medical office coming by to see how he was doing. I plain jane'd myself, no make-up, hair in a ponytail, t-shirt and jeans shorts (not ultra-slutty daisy dukes) and sandals. I was prepared if I ran into Mrs. Fatfuck, but she was out shopping. I knew where fatfuck lived, but had never been inside the house. Opulent to say the least. The door was answered by a housekeeper in uniform. I almost slipped and said "I'm here to see fatfuck", but she probably would not have understood me as English was definitely not her first language.

Fatfuck was sequestered in a large room and was being babysat by a huge black islander, a male nurse tech named Cristobal. This is because there is no other way to move the massive lard that is fatfuck without Herculean power.

I wasn't sure what to bring fatfuck, meaning a get-well gift, I asked Nicole and she was like 'your presence is a fucking gift' 'just seeing you may kill him, wear something sexy so he'll die'. Of course you have to understand Nicole's morbid sense of humor. This was another reason I plain jane'd myself. If I had done myself up into a to-die-for look, I'm sure he would have had a heart attack on the spot.

The best part was that fatfuck's heart rate went up as soon as I walked in, as he was hooked up to a heart rate and pulse ox monitor. "I've missed you!" I announced. "Everyone's missing you!" "Everyone?" "Yes, even Adam." Cristobal had no idea who Adam is, this is fatfuck's 'cocksuckee'. I added: "Adam is especially missing his injections". This is a joke because fatfuck does botox injections, but it's Adam who gives fatfuck bo-splooge injections.

Fatfuck asked if Cristobal could leave the room for a moment so he could discuss some private business, Cristobal gave a look then left. Fatfuck confessed that he'd missed me more than he could say and also wanted to know if my sister could visit. He asked if I could do something to him, anything, right at that moment. So I whispered in his ear his favorite Yiddish fetish trigger word 'fagele' (no translation needed) and spit on his cheek, a kiss. His heart rate went up even more. It doesn't take much.

He told me to pull out my cell phone and enter a number I was to call tomorrow. His attorney. "I'm going to call him, there will be an envelope there for you tomorrow, just a little bit, I know Wednesdays were our days." Then fatfuck said he loved me. And I saw his eyes were tearing up. It made me feel very sad. I could see an old man who knew his days were numbered and that there was no love in his life. His wife was disinterested in anything but his money and the only joy in his life was when he and I would get together and I would punish his pathetic fat ass. But he and I would also talk and text almost daily. Although I speak of fatfuck in ridicule on my blog, yes I would cry if he were gone, because he was a good man, a good father, and someone who cared about me, which counting on my fingers, there are few, very few who really do.

Chippenstalker?

"I've read your recent blog, which - as always - are fascinating, foxy and funny in equal measures. Your Chippendale Chauffeur offer sounds like one you'll explore. If he was prepared to pay you for the privilege of cleaning, driving and serving for you all, then surely he's in with a chance?" --peewee

peewee,

1. I am not holding my breath waiting to see a pic of the 'Chippendales quality body' this #1 fan claims to have. Nicole thinks the email is a joke, but who knows. Hmmmm maybe she wrote it?

2. Chippendales are gay! They may have hot hardbodies, but the general impression of most women is that they're gay. Why women buy their calendars and clamor for lapdances from prancing Chippendale fags at bachelorette parties is beyond me.

3. Ewww do we want a Chippendales fag to know where each one of us lives as he picks us up and drops us off after a nite of clubbing. Major stalker potential.

4. Ewww again, do we want a Chippendales fag to know where each one of us lives as he vacuums our apartments or condos? And his obsession with vacuuming....He sounds like the obsessive type....

It takes a lot of trust to let a slave into your life, or any man, and to let him know where you live. It's so much easier for a girl to give out her Myspace page these days and let guys into her virtual world than her real one....