They are way too long and the “pink” in the pink and white (French nails) is way too pink. But I can still type!  Did I hear someone groan?

It all started because, as usual, I got peeved at someone. This time, unfortunately, that person happened to be my (until then) favorite manicurist. Maybe she was having a bad day or a fight with her boyfriend. Whatever the problem, her attitude sucked. So since then I’ve been trying out different salons.

The problem is that unless I want to drive a rather long distance, most of the salons are owned and populated by Asian manicurists. Asian manicurists who don’t speak English very well. So it’s kinda-sorta hard to make clear to them exactly what I want. As was the case today. One of my best friends is Asian (with straight hair down to her ass…she is gorgeous) and she speaks perfectly good English.

And another problem is we all have our idea of “the perfect manicure.” Although you boys might not know this, manicures can include or exclude certain steps. Or the steps might be executed differently. For example, while I prefer my nails to be buffed to a gloss, some salons opt to use a clear top coat instead. Some salons massage cuticle oil into your cuticles, others skip that step. And one manicurist’s definition of “rounded square”–also called squoval, believe it or not–and another manicurist’s definition can vary quite a bit. Which means I often come home from a trip to the nail salon and refile my nails. Sigh….

But there is good news. I also had a pedicure and got my legs waxed, and she did an absolutely fabulous job. Although communication was rough, I have to say she was very conscientious and professional. So maybe I might just give her one more try. Even with the fingernails, she did get the squoval part right.  I will probably keep these for about a week (usually it’s two), just so I can vamp it up for a while.

Actually, I went for flue and pneumonia shots afterwards…and the Doctor (wearing a very colorful Sesame Street tie) told me that he really liked my nails. Hmmm…. Maybe my new manicurist knows better than me.

Come to think of it, they’d look really hot holding a Virginia Slim. Only I quit smoking, so that’s not an option.

Of course, masturbation might be a problem. Ouch!

xo, Angela

Why hasn’t somebody bought me this?  ‘Cuz, as we already know, I certainly do have a serious shoe fetish. Isn’t it adorable? I found it at the sweetest little place, Locher’s, where the selection is quite darling-cutesy–naughty. Of course, I would never fuck for shoes. Well, maybe if it were for like fifty pairs of shoes. Okay, maybe ten pairs. Stop laughing. Now I’m off to tell Slip of a Girl about this wonderful find. Things this good just have to be shared.

xo, Angela

Pervert Logic: Take the PervScan Survey

Perversity is a matter of perspective. Dontcha think? The pedophile thinks he does no harm, that he loves his little girls and boys. The cross-dresser goes back and forth from petticoat elation to autophobic purging. Men who dig bestiality will ask, “How does it hurt the dog? He seems to be having a good time.” BDSM is considered by many to be the slimy enterprise of underground misfits. I could go on…but you get the idea.

Basically, it’s my kink is better than your kink.

My take on all of this? Well, darling, I’m a Spice Girl. Which means, quite honestly: A place for everything and everything in it’s place. After a few years talking dirty on the kink-O-phone and kinda-sorta specializing in FemDom/fetish, I’ve come to believe that we just can’t help or change what turns us on, and that we all have our own inner pervert.

It might be Freudian–the id, ego and super-ego stuff. Regardless, it is our responsibility to make that dirty little id behave properly, in a way that does harm to neither ourselves or others. In other words, no kink should supersede and/or replace normal sex; those we love deserve a good old-fashioned missionary fuck now and then. And so do we. And some kink should always remain in your brain. Or shared with me (wink).

So, what do you think about all of this?

Well, it seems that SuperVert is very interested in your two cents. (Unless, of course, your inner pervert likes to shoot two pennies out of his dick.) His inquiring mind wants to know. What do you think about perversity. What’s the worst? What’s not so bad? How, when, where and why?

So why don’t you stop by and anonymously take his survey?

The thing is, Mr. Vert (AKA Deviant Savant) is up to something very special, saying that he “continues to work very diligently on some large projects you should hear about soon.” Yowza! Could it be a brand new book? Or maybe a follow up book? Maybe, if we take the survey, we’ll be in the book…at least incognito?

Or maybe it’s a book all about me?

Or maybe he’s going to ask me to marry him and is having a very expensive, very huge diamond ring made for me?

Leave me to my dreams and go take that survey.

xo, Angela

Thanks to my good friend, Jay, for sending these exclusive smoking pictures from his labor of love, Alta Smoking. If you’re the kind of guy who gets off watching gorgeous, sexy women smoking, then you simply must check out Alta Smoking, where Jay does what he does best. Which happens to be providing his members with always exclusive, always original and always very hot content. A nice FREE sampling of what’s inside is available, including a very sexy video of a naughty girl lighting up. (Gotta love those naughty girls!)

Another good thing about Jay is that he updates often–there is always something new. You may recall my interview with Jay and its companion piece, Look Out Leg Show, in which I review his other site, Alta Heels. Both are required reading if you want to know where he finds all those lovely girls and why his members are so loyal.

Obviously, I’m a fan. I don’t have to tell you about the overabundance of sleazy operators out there. So is it any wonder I find it refreshing to see sexy content provided by an ethical business man who believes the customer deserves a lot of bang (plus a whole lot of snap, crackle and pop) for his buck?

Smoke ’em if you’ve got ’em…

xo, Angela

Wherein “rock” is my sacrosanct heart, and “hard place” is the cock you stroke while listening to my vulgar verbosity.

The first thing is that I really am both girls. And mostly I am both girls at the same time. There just isn’t a big division there. (Which I think is a good thing, by the way.)

I actually received a bible as a gift from a caller one time–his attempt to convince me of the validity of The Rapture, which I did and still do believe is downright Voodoo mumbo-jumbo. Not always, but more often than you would think, matters of spirituality, religion, who/what is God, etc. are the whispered sweet nothings, either right before or after a client sniffs my ass and barks like a dog or jerks off on on his own face or finger-fucks his ass while fucking a Fleshlight.

And then there are the sacredotal fantasies I occasionally spin, involving inovative uses for rosaries, chalices, crucifixes, holy water, blessed candles and whatever else I might pull out of my ecclesiastic bag of dirty tricks. Let me put it this way: When I’m toting the trick bag, no orifice is off limits. I do sooo love taking boys to church. Can I hear a hallelujah?

The way I see it, personality schisms are dangerous to our emotional homeostasis. You could say that they are a function of our dysfunction. When we are cracked into isolated pieces, rather than being a whole person with various facets, it just can’t be healthy. We ache for a connection which is impossible in our divided states and the fallout is a whole bunch of seriously bad religion, in which they who are spoken to carry the “word” to the spiritually deaf.

The second thing is, more often than not, proselytizers really piss me off. I take issue with someone who needs the ten commandments to figure out right from wrong. Not to mention that it’s kinda-sorta scary that someone needs to be told that stealing or killing just isn’t cool. Born again, they are suddenly pompous, condescending assholes. And aren’t even self-aware to see that what they are doing is not the answer to WWJD. Jesus, my friend, was definitely not hanging out with the Pharisees. (Matthew 23. 29-31, 34-38)

And I find it a serious disservice to honest seekers that most religions–believing their way is the only way–divide rather than coalesce, ritualize rather than celebrate, judge rather than love, cleave rather than conjoin. I have absolutely no doubt that every religion’s heart is pretty much in the right place. It’s just that they’ll never get it right by trying to be the only right. Does that make sense?

The third thing is that I would like to find a place to do the spiritual thing. A church but not a church. If you’ve experienced any type of twelve step program, you can probably get where I am coming from. It’s like spiritual beliefs are shared, but separate…and nobody is wrong. I like that. And matters of “saving” someone are left to God, not to bible-thumping, wanna be super heroes.

Which brings me to the but maybe…

There really isn’t a twelve step program into which I actually fit; my brief exposure was due to supporting a beloved friend. I can’t hold my liquor and I’m too frugal to get addicted to other chemicals. So I’m always looking at possibilities.

What’s recently caught my interest is the Episcopalians who in 2003 consecrated an openly gay bishop. The going is not easy as even in 2007 too many believers and even nonbelievers still can’t understand that goodness and morality are about hearts and not sex organs. But then there is Father Matthew’s vlog.   I’m watching and waiting.

So while while I’m watching and waiting, why don’t you stop in at my confessional. Say, Bless me, Saint Angela, for I want to sin. I’ll take it from there.

xo, Saint Angela