The end of labor is to gain leisure.  ~Aristotle

Two Days only:  Sunday & Monday (Sept. 2 & 3, 2012)

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It’s been a motherfucker of a summer in my neck of the woods, the temperature being well into the 90’s and above most days.  Miss Angela doesn’t like it; she doesn’t like it one bit.  I got suckered into a picnic on Memorial Day and I was not happy.  I won’t bore you with the details, because I’m sure that you’ve experienced your own picnic nightmares.

So the closest I intend on getting close to anything picnic-y is a Long Island Ice Tea.  Or maybe a fantasy with you in which you strip down and wank for me and the girls around the pool. *wink*

Therefore we have plan B:  A SUPER-SIZED Labor Day Sale, in which you can save some serious do-re-mi while getting your rocks off.  For the last three years, I’ve had a New Year’s Eve Sale (because, you guessed it, I also hate New Year’s Eve) that has been absolutely banging.  So it will be interesting to see how this goes.

If you’re a regular, you know it’s the best deal in town and you already know what you’re in for.

If you haven’t talked with me, now’s your chance.  If you want to get a feel for what I do, check out Blistered Lips, where you will find an eclectic collection of vignettes written by for you.  Basically… I like it kinky & perverse and I like to be in charge.

Hope to talk with you soon.

Angela

ps.  Snazzy … if you’re still out there, I tried to email you and, of course, couldn’t reach you.  There was a big snafu on my end and just got your email today.  I answered it immediately.  Snazzyyyy: come home!

Edited to add:  Well, apparently, Snazzy is gone with the wind.  I feel very bad about that. But can’t do a thing about it.  The good news is that you guys showed up in droves for my Super Duper Labor Day Sale.  Thank you so much.  I hope each and every one of you had a very good time.  Look in your email for 5 Free minutes.  You earned it.

What did the cuckoldress …

… say to the farmer?

(And just quite possibly gave him a boner.)

A chicken farmer goes to a local bar,  sits down next to a woman and orders a glass of champagne.

The woman perks up and says, “How about that? I just ordered a glass of champagne too!”

The farmer smiles and says, “Really? What a coincidence! This is a very special day for me, so I’m celebrating.  What about you?”

“This is a special day for me too.  So I’m also celebrating,” says the woman.

“What a coincidence,” says the farmer, “here we are, both drinking champagne, both at the same bar, both celebrating. This calls for a toast.”

As they clinked glasses the man asks, “What are you celebrating?”

“My husband and I have been trying for years to have a child and today my gynecologist told me that I am pregnant!”

“What a coincidence,” says the man. “I’m a chicken farmer and for years all of my hens were infertile, but today they are all laying fertilized eggs.”

“Well jolly good for you,” says the woman. “How did your chickens become fertile?”

“I used a different cock,” the farmer replies.

The woman smiles and says, “What a coincidence.”

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