Just downright cranky today, so:

1. What fucking dummy decided to start putting tofu into egg drop soup?
2. Who told callers it is ok to start out your first call ever with a PSO with, “Tell me how you like that big, n***er dick, baby? (To which I always reply: “Why don’t you tell me how much you like it? Because isn’t that what we’re really talkling about here?” and/or “We will not be using racial slurs in this call.”) click
3. Who cares if other PSOs copy your stuff? Girls copy me all the time. So what? If the girl is so stupid that she can’t make up her own copy/design/etc., even if she gets a few callers who might have ended in your lap instead of hers, she isn’t going to be able to deliver the goods. So don’t sweat it.
4. Radio Shack customer service still sucks.
5. Come to think of it, so do their products.
   
6. Circuit City is on my shit-list now too. I will be writing about that soon. Stay tuned.
7. Why is it so hard to figure out that there is no way around it: Instant Karma is going to get you. So what is all this PSO snarky-narci-ness around the ‘net these days? Don’t we have better things to be doing with our time than ratting each other out? Fucking with someone else’s business is never, ever a good thing. And it will always hurt the fucker more than the fuckee.
8. Is there anything worse than a sub topping from the bottom? Like any of them could ever get away with it when they tangle with me. Block and Delete: Such awesome tools for the modern Mistress on the go.
9. Why oh why can’t I get my damn website updated? I have so many ideas, but they are all jumbled and I seem to be incapable of putting them into even some facsimile of coherency.
10. Hello out there, DeliaCD, the most beautiful crossdresser on the web. My version of the check is in mail: Stories coming…I swear!

So I just opened a fortune cookie: Reorganization is crucial at this time.

Lucky numbers: 5, 7, 13, 24, 30, 42.

So do I take the fortune to heart? Or do I go buy a bunch of lottery tickets? Or do I take two aspirin and call myself in the morning?

Helliphino!

But here is something to smile about. Even me, as cranky as I am.

Poolside

by Jeremy Edwards

The hotel’s elegant indoor pool area–deserted at this hour–was the perfect venue for the tryst we both craved. As we enjoyed the cool jazz that wafted in, we kissed, fondled, and undressed at leisure.

The last garment had hit the tiles. Gabrielle’s nipples and my penis were at maximum tension, and her pussy kissed my fingers with sweet juice. I began to lead her to a lounge chair, so that we could properly mingle.

“I have to pee first,” she said. I prepared to bide my time, thinking she would throw something on, excuse herself, and find a restroom. But she had other ideas. She glanced quickly around the pool lounge and spotted a file of fluffy towels. She grabbed a medium-size towel and, standing gloriously naked before me, she shoved it, still folded, into her crotch, where she held it tight with one hand and both thighs.

As I watched in amazement and delight, she kept her outer muscles tight and relaxed her inner ones. Within moments, she was pumping a powerful river of pee into the towel, humping it rhythmically all the while. Though she pissed a long time–an expression of sexual bliss creeping onto her face as she did so–the towel absorbed most of her flood. Only a few small, titillating trickles headed down her pulsating legs or dripped languidly to the floor beneath her damp, hot pussy.

Short and sweet and deliciously naughty. Dontcha think? You might recall that Jerotic visited Zen Fetish once before and I told you more about him the very next day. I mean, after all, inquiring minds wanted to know.

Something else about Jerotic? He’s a very sweet guy. I count him as a friend. And I count myself very lucky.

What’s a mind like Jerotic’s up to on a daily basis? Find out here. Tell him Angela sent you. He might just offer you some milk and cookies. Watch out for the lemonade, though.

Let it be known across the Land of Virtual Kink that Richard, beloved of Alexandra and having acquitted himself well as both page and squire, came this day to kneel before the Queen of Kink (that would be moi–at least for these purposes…but don’t believe everything you read) to receive the accolade of Submissive Savant.

Richard joins Pervert Savant and Deviant Savant as part of my ever-growing Savant Collection. These exquisite and rare collectables look absolutely fab on the shelves of my curio cabinet, adding a certain pizazz to its otherwise ordinary veneer. This Queen delights in her Savants’ individual quirkiness, general outrage at all things mundane and above-average Kink Quotient.

In celebration of this most joyous of days, I’ve added Submissive Savant to the Virtual Savant Curio Cabinet.

Sir Richard ichard is my good friend, Alexandra’s beloved submissive, brilliant and clever observer/chronicler in the Land of Virtual Kink, my generous & indulgent advisor on all things techno-web and internet-iquette (because I haven’t got a clue).

Straight up, you can’t go wrong when befriending this lovely savant. While he is submissive, I opt to adore him…from afar, of course. Because otherwise he just couldn’t take it.

Oh, and Richard is a tireless and passionate bitchboy for anything BDSM/FemDom, as you will find at his other sites: BDSM Watch, FemDom Blogs, FemDom Dating, BDSM Weblogs, and FemDom Romance, FemDom WeBlogs.

Now let’s party!

xo
Angela

I’ve mentioned–ok, I’ll admit it: gushed, drooled and wet my panties over–Supervert when steering you to his fan-tabulous bevy of sites on more than one occasion. The man is a frickin genius after all.

He is the Lone Ranger of the Internet (Who was that virtual man?): Kemo Sabe to all who study the dark and dangerous side of kink. Of course there’s the added benefit of allowing us to feel good about our hidden fantasies while holding them up against others’ morbid and twisted realities.

But today is Labor Day, and if you’re as anti-picnics as I am, you just might find yourself a bit on the lonely side of things. So I’m inviting you to a party, courtesy of Mr. Vert via the newest addition to his ever-expanding web-porium, PervScan.tv.

Guaranteed to be more fun than sweaty volleyball games, voracious army ants and drunken relatives, watching this line-up (Doggy Styles, Toilet Manners, Pantywaists, Nibby Neighbors–just to name a few) is a great way to pass the time and a sure cure to any exhibitionistic notions we’ve been secretly considering.

Plus, it goes well with popcorn.

xo, Tonto

By now you should have read Jeremy Edwards’ frisky little story After Tennis. I promised you a little more info on said gentleman, so perk up your cute little ears and have a listen.

Although I only ran into Mr. Edwards (who also goes by Jerotic–don’t you just love it?) recently when reading his story The Girl Who Loved to Pee, evidently he’s been stirring up quite a bit of mischief with his wicked wordiness for a while now. As I told you yesterday, he has a nice little crib of his own, but it seems that Jeremy has what my grandmother refers to as a “gasoline ass.” He just can’t be a good boy and stay at home!

For example, he’s becoming quite the Casanova over at Oysters and Chocolate (which, by the way, just became a free site–so scoot over there now), where high-brow babes go to get their grafenberg tickled by some of the best writers in the biz. You can bet that Jeremy’s Any Day of the Week and Vacation Plans are doing some tickling. Wonder which is the oysters and which is the chocolate. Hmmmm…

He’s also charming the panties off of a few ladies at Tit-Elation with an exquisitely naughty tidbit, Adrienne’s Ironic Lingerie. (The man does have a way with words, doesn’t he?) You can read a juicy little excerpt of this story over at the lingerie blog of A Slip of a Girl who was so intrigued she had him back for an interview. Then I suggest signing up for a membership with Tit-Elation, because membership does have its privileges.

Evidently insatiable, his purple prose can also be found tucked between the linens of the pre-eminent erotic magazine on the Internet, Clean Sheets. Go ahead–slip into something more comfortable; then tuck yourself in with a few of his very naughty bedtime stories: If We Were and The Ass Pajama Lottery.

Whew! I don’t know about you. But I need a cigarette after all of that.

xo