A Lament For Phone Sex Operators in Tough Economic Times

By Pervert Q. Savant

The evening news
these the past few weeks
has surely brought
more troughs than peaks.
Spending’s down;
unemployment grows.
The country’s fortunes
Have hit new lows
And while Congress
spews purple prose,
There’s no money out there
for poor PSOs!

As I pen these words,
I see much amiss.
Our economy’s entered
a real deep abyss.
“This bailout’s a bust!”
fat Rush Limbaugh crows.
These damned banks won’t even tell us
Where all that money goes!”
The automakers too
Bewail their many woes.
But there’s not a dime out there
for poor PSOs!

“Our debt’s all ballooned!”
the fierce pundits all scream.
“The Chinese’ll own us,
Our lenders just scheme!”
But our great Wall Street moguls
are in soft repose.
They’re sipping champagne,
while their banks just foreclose.
And the worst thing about it
Is that no one really knows
who really got all that money
and then where it all goes.
But one thing’s for certain,
I think everyone knows
there ain’t a bit of it out there
for poor PSOs!

In the overall scheme of things
it just doesn’t seem right
to give out all that money
to millionaires – so uncontrite,
To the financing biggies —
Like poor AIG ,
and similar piggies,
who so soaked you and me.
But that’s the free market
It’s how it all goes
The tycoons get the money
While we get the hose.
And there’s not a dime out there
For poor PSOs.

So lower your rates, daughters!
Advertise to the max!
Give out those free minutes!
In your work be not lax!
For you’re on your own, honey
There’s no help from the Feds,
if you want to get money
for your food or your meds.
‘Cause the U.S. economy’s
in its death throes
And there’s certainly no money
For poor PSOs.

***

So do Phone Sex Operators need a Phone Sex bailout?  Why not?  If Larry Flynt and the Porn Industry can do it, so can we. 

Thanks you Pervert Savant, for the cutest poem ever!  And readers, while you’re here, learn more about my Savant Collection right here and read Pervert Savant’s ongoing series,  Lingerie on the Razor-Wire by clicking here.

To NORA

JIM

****

Who knew that Mr. Joyce was such a randy, dirty scamp?  And why didn’t my Lit. Prof (damn Jesuit Catholic wench) assign this collection of letters (yes, I have more … stay tuned)  instead of Dubliners and A Portrait of a Young Man as Artist … both of which put me to sleep more than once.  Or instead of Ulysses, which made absolutely no sense to me or my fellow classmates no matter how many times we were told it was "great literature."  If I were feeling better, I’d do some surfing to revisit all that stuff and perhaps revise my critical opinion.  Since I’m not feeling so hot (I have a cold … boo hoo, poor me), maybe Pervert Savant or Vanilla Savant will call and give me the lowdown in the next couple of days.

You can read more about Joyce at Wikipedia and then check out the very pretty James Joyce Centre.

OMG!  He was bonking the chambermaid.  And her last name was Barnacle. Which explain why he didn’t write odes and sonnets to her.  What rhymes with "barnacle," after all?

xo, Angela

PS:  as you might have gathered — because I feel like crap and also do not want to be hacking into your ear right at the critical point *wink, wink* — no worky-worky for me.  And unless you call Isabella, The Luscious One or Abby Licks or Mistress Rayne … no phone sex for you.  If you do call any of my phone sex buddies, take it from me:  you will have an absolutely-tutely divine experience.  If you don’t make the call and need a bit of visual stimuli, then here’s a bunch of dirty pictures.

Special Thanks and 128 kisses (no more, no less) to Sweat Shop Sissy, who seems to always have my back … and certainly my deepest affection.

i watch your mouth
pure-boy rubicund
sweet-boy sugared
not kissed enough, not nearly enough
to my way of thinking
not nearly fucking enough

your lips
let me eat them
gnaw on them
spit on them
then lick it back off
then swallow it
our spit, our mouth-cum

suck on them
swallow them
bite them
fuck them with my cunt-mouth
rubicund too, rabid with need

then kiss them
kiss you
kiss me

with my real mouth
my girl mouth
my carnivore-mouth
my bitch-cannibal mouth
my slut-succubus mouth

kiss me

(a poem I wrote, hope you like it)

xo, Angela

• Well, I finally got around to moving my Savant Collection to a bigger and better curio cabinet (AKA their very own page here at Zen Fetish).
• When visiting, please do not pick up, handle or fondle the Savants. Remember: You break it, you buy it.
• As you browse this small (but most exclusive) collection, you might also notice that there are more Savants awaiting their debut: Vanilla Savant (there’s one in every crowd, don’t ya know?), Closeted Savant (he has secrets), Lady of the Lace Savant (the first female savant — yowza!), Horn Dawg Savant (this one is lotsa fun — just you wait) and Pussy-Whipped Savant (which really always is the case anyway — he just is a bit more aware of it).
• God Bless Luscious Lyndee: She’s now the proud owner of two Brian Rawson photographs.
• I’ve been getting a lot of poetry sent my way these days for some reason and I do thank the senders very much. One (a Shakespearian Sonnet) is below. And thanks to you-know-who.
• Oh, and did you see the response to A O Hell posted by a certain Savant who is pretty darn creative and down right hillarious? That, too, is below.
• Now that everything is tied up into a neat little bow, let me say goodbye for tonight. Kink-O-Phone is now officially off of the hook.

***

Sonnet 57 ~William Shakespeare

Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.

Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;

Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are how happy you make those.

So true a fool is love that in your will,
Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.

***

System/Prakrit Kamasutramurtri Says:

October 20th, 2006 at 8:50 pm

Dear Pearl:

Namaste!

It gladdens my heart, here in Mumbai, to learn that your AOL Email system has at last returned to its normal state of happy repair.

In your posting to ZenFetish, however, I sense smally that there remains of bitterness and dissatisfaction with AOL and with my own most sincere efforts to assist you with your unfortunate problem. Know well, that at all times, I strenuously expended myself to my utmost to relieve you of your most perplexing difficulty.

Sadly, Brahma was not amenable to the resolution of your misfortune on this occasion. Such is karma. I wished you to be cognizant that I am now burning incense and have offered sweets and flowers at the Temple of Kali in hopes of atonement.

Please take a moment to give me a good report when further communicating with my superiors.

Sincerely

Prakrit Kamasutramutri (”Jerry”)
Your AOL-Customer Service Representative in Mumbai