Phone Sex Email:  A SLIPPERY BAG OF TRICKS

Well once — when I refused to do Racial Humiliation — I actually got this one:  Get off your fucking high hourse [sic], you fucking cunt.  Sigh.  And you wonder why sometimes I just want to turn off the phones, curl up under a blanket and watch a good old-fashioned movie on Turner Classic Movies.  (BTW … you can download some pretty damn cool FREE  backgrounds and screen savers — including It’s a Bikini World, Great Expectations, and Have Rocket, Will Travel from TCM right HERE.) 

Oops!  There I go digressing again.

I get a lot of jokes.

Mr. D. — who happens to be rather unhappily married sent me this:

THE F. B. I. WAS IN THE PROCESS OF INTERVIEWING APPLICANTS SEEKING TO BE AGENTS.

MORAL:  Women are crazy. Don’t mess with them.

Sometimes, after a call, I will get the sweetest Thank You EMail:

Thank you so much for our encounter today. It was a pleasure in every way imaginable. It’s been a long time since an erotic and kinky encounter felt so right. I do believe I could’ve chatted with you for hours (kinky or not).

Or a humorous follow-up:

My mother would be proud…well…..  Love, Mr. M.

Maybe something to both tickle and impress:

May I compare thee to a summer rose?  I know you make me thorny.

Or an invitation:

I’m going to be in your neck of the woods August 18 and 19.  Would you consider getting together?  Just for a cup of coffee, of course.

And of course I get zillions of Fantasy Requests and they do run the gamut:

***Will you be my Twisted Psychiatrist and turn me into your Nasty Bimbo Slut?  (this included pictures of his feminized self)  YES I WILL!

***Mmmm … I want to be your slutty whore.  Will you strap-on train me?  YES I WILL!

***If I send you pictures of me doing dirty things (dildos, eating my own cum, etc.), will you blackmail me?  I will send you my girlfriend’s phone number and email address.  NO I WONT!

***Will you turn me into your jack off boy?  Make me wait, make me beg.  Train my cock to serve you.  Will you watch me on cam?  YES I WILL

***Dear Mistress Angela:  I have a fantasy about being totally addicted to a woman who enjoys controlling me and using me.  It is very important that she enjoy her power and can make me do anything.  May I call you?  YES YOU CAN!

And another joke (from a fav sissy boy):

My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served us food and drinks.  As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and told us that "Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he’ll be landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that would be super."

To which (I swear) the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, "Well, sweet-cheeks, in my country I’m called a Queen, so I outrank you.  Tray-up, Bitch."

PQS sends me poetry:

Professionally speaking, things are going well.  Through the month of June, I pretty much was just working weekends (VERY BUSY WEEKENDS — which I will be blogging about in the next few days).  My absence Mondays through Thursdays was not due to my Diva complex, which I admit to having –at least sometimes — but due to the fact that I’ve been rather ill.  Of course, the show must go on.  And so — at least on weekends — it did, with nary a caller even suspecting I wasn’t just not quite up to par.  Truthfully, I needed the weekdays for R&R.  

The nature of my illness?  I just couldn’t hold down food.  When you forget you’ve eaten watermelon and barf up red stuff … it gets kinda scary.  I lost twelve pounds and now have to work at putting that back on, so I guess it’s pizza and milkshakes for me, and maybe my world-famous tuna noodle casserole.  Tra la la. 

Because I wouldn’t go to see a doctor — I tend to self-medicate and self-diagnose — I was kinda-sorta playing Sherlock Homeopathologist.   I know, I know!  Don’t start preaching.  Anyway, just like any gumshoe worth her salt, I  finally nailed the culprit , which ended up being one of the many herbs, supplements and vitamins I take on a daily basis.  Again, please don’t preach.  I do my research and know my stuff.  Let’s just say that I won’t be ordering that particular supplement from that company again.  

This entire episode got me to thinking about how Phone Sex Operators are, by the very nature of the Phone Sex Business, pretty much one-dimensional in the minds of our callers.  And, of course, the same works in reverse:  we can make the cursory mistake of sizing up our callers just by their kinky fantasy.  On both ends of the phone, we are so much more than that.  All-in-all, it’s rather lazy of us, isn’t it?  In my own defense, I do make a concerted effort to ABSOLUTELY not do that, but I’m not Mary Poppins and I sometimes fail.   Particularly if the caller is a one hit wonder — coming (pun) and going in the blink of an eye, never to be heard from again.  But, heh!  I’m trying here.  I really am.

So — in that vein — if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.  In other words, here’s some things you just might not know — and may or may not like — about your FemDom PhoneSex Goddess:

I’m extremely impatient.  I want what I want and I want it now.  And, yes, I’ve been known to throw a temper tantrum when my desires have been frustrated.  It’s not so very pretty when I’m   raging against the mediocrity of bureaucracy in all its ineptness, sluggishness and redundancy.

It follows that I expect attention.  Particularly when YOU are taking MY money.  Which means if  I am you’re customer, you better at least act like you care.  Because I won’t hesitate to spend my money elsewhere.  The upside of this is that if you do your job well — I will make it worth your while, tipping generously and recommending your service to others.

FASHIONABLY LATE could be my middle name, because I’m never on time for anything.  And while you might argue that the term should be RUDELY LATE, it does suit my general temperament .  I’m single, after all; and that does tend to make a girl  a bit self-centered.  And  while I hate waiting for other people; I’d have no problem making them wait for me.  This doesn’t work with my doctor or dentist.  When I arrive late, they just push other appointments ahead of me and I am duly punished.  Also I like to look top-notch fresh and pretty when attending functions, so that I put off dressing, hair and makeup until the last minute.   And I am working on this though, because I do realize it’s very unfair to others.

When it comes to AFFAIRS OF THE HEART, I take the "affairs" part far more seriously than I probably should, preferring flings to relationships.  I don’t do well in long term relationships. It’s rather confusing even to me, as I really do believe in love and marriage and all that stuff.  Still, no matter how promising something starts out, I find myself getting bored rather quickly.  And then I’m wiggling my way back to singlehood  as fast as I can.  But there is JewBoy, who I am at least keeping around at arm’s length.  So maybe there’s still hope for me?

What’s more:

I read in bed.  Every single night.  No exceptions.

I’m a reality show junkie.  TOP CHEF, PROJECT RUNWAY and HELL’S KITCHEN to name a few.

Most of the time, I leave a window open (and sometimes the doors to my balcony) when running my AC or furnace. 

I love pink.  All things pink.  My Ipod, cellphone, GPS and even my license plates are all pink.  You should see my pink patent leather fuck me pumps.

I own way too many pairs of shoes … and am still buying.  I WON’T BE STOPPED.

I have a fairly severe case of acrophobia.  So I don’t snow ski and it takes everything I have to go down an escalator.

I give away too much money. 

I don’t smoke pot, because it makes me want to clean house.  But I think it should be legal.

I like codeine and take it every chance I get.  Lucky for me, I don’t get many chances.

When it comes to liquor, I can barely tolerate more than two drinks without getting sick.  But I do have my  rare moments.  Once or twice a year I get tipsy.

I don’t like sitting still.  I have a Type A personality and have to be doing something. 

I’m a terrible Bingo player:  I’d rather  people-watch and end up missing numbers, which drives whoever dragged me there crazy.  And I  am always angry with the person who calls BINGO.  I want to jump over the tables and bitch slap her.

My favorite card games are pinochle and spades.

My favorite board games are scrabble and boggle.

I DO NOT walk around in stockings and heels every day.   In fact, I actually prefer sneakers.

So there!  You got yourself a peek behind the Phone Sex Curtain.  As I’ve maintained all along, Phone Sex Divas really are just the girls next door.  And now you know that we can be  just silly and bitchy and demanding as your wives and girlfriends.  I guess the lesson in all this is to BE NICE TO YOUR HONEY.  She could be me!

xo, Angela 

… oh!  I wrote a new poem.  And yes I was pissed off.

Trannysaurus Heterodoxy:  Crossdressing Humor

Okay, it’s no secret I kinda-sorta like my sissy boys bunches and bunches.  As I’ve said before, don’t knock it if you haven’t seen a hard dick behind a pair of cute panties.  This time I’ll add:  Don’t be so quick to judge if you haven’t gotten to know the heart that beats behinds that bullet bra.  I have.  And guess what?  It beats just like yours or mine … maybe even perhaps a tad more passionately and honestly. 

I stand by a man’s right to play at being a girly-boy now and again, when it’s suits his/her fantasy or maybe just when the moon is pink and full.  When it comes to KINK it would behoove us to remember: 

Everybody’s kinky, everybody’s fine.  Your kink is funny.  And so is mine.

Two guys are changing in the locker room at the gym, and one of them notices that the other one is wearing a bra and panties.

"Hey, Joe, how long have you been wearing women’s underwear?"

"Ever since my wife found them in the glove compartment."

A straight man, a trans-sexual, and a crossdresser were drinking coffee together in a trendy cafe and watching the passing crowd. A very busty, well-dressed, and attractive woman walked into view. "Look at those tits," exclaimed the straight man getting up from his seat for a better view. "Doesn’t she move beautifully", sighed the trans-sexual enviously. The crossdresser drank some coffee and observed, "Her lipstick is all wrong for that dress."

Transvestite:  A guy who likes to eat, drink and be Mary.

Bigfoot is really a solitary transvestite wondering the Pacifice Northwest in a vain search for heels that fit.

A boy goes up to his father. "Daddy, what’s a transvestite?"

"Go ask your mom," he replies. "HE should be able to explain it better."

A nun gets into a cab and the cab driver won`t stop staring at her.  She asks him why is he staring, and he replies, "I have a question to ask you, but I don`t want to offend you."
She answers, "My dear son, you cannot offend me. When you`re as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything.  I`m sure that there`s nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."

"Well, I`ve always had a fantasy to have a nun perform oral sex on me."

The nun responds, "Well, but you have to be single, and you must be Catholic."

The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, I am single, and I`m Catholic too!"

The nun says, "Okay then, pull into the next alley." He does, and the nun fulfills his fantasy. But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying his eyes out.

"My dear child, why are you crying?"

"Forgive me sister, but I have sinned. I lied, I must confess I`m married and I`m Jewish."

The nun says, "That`s OK, my name is Kevin, and I`m on my way to a Halloween Party."

Q.  What’s the difference between a transvestite sailor and Monica Lewinsky’s wardrobe?

A.   When you have a transvestite sailor, you have a dress on a seaman.

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