The Wussy Boy Manifesto
by Eric Ott (Big Poppa E)

my name is big poppa e
and i am a wussy boy.

it’s taken me a long time to admit it…

i remember shouting in high school,
“no, dad, I’m not gay!
I’m just… sensitive.
i tried to like hot rods and jet planes
and football and budweiser poster girls,
but i never got the hang of it!
i don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

then, i saw him,
there on the silver screen,
bigger than life and unafraid
of earrings and hair dye
and rejoicing in the music
of the cure and morrissey and
siouxsie and the banshees,
talking loud and walking proud
my wussy boy icon:
duckie in pretty in pink.

and i realized i wasn’t alone.

and i looked around
and saw other wussy boys
living large and proud of who they were:
ralph macchio, wussy boy;
matthew broderick, wussy boy;
and lord god king
of the wussy boy movement,
john cusack in say anything,
unafraid to prove to the world
that sensitive guys much kick ass.

now i am no longer ashamed
of my wussiness, hell no,
I’m empowered by it.

when I’m at a stoplight and
some testosterone redneck
methamphetamine
jock fratboy asshole dumb fuck
pulls up beside me
blasting his trans am’s stereo
with power chord anthems to big tits
and date rape,
i no longer avoid his eyesight, hell no,
i just crank all 12 watts of my car stereo
and i rock out right into his face:
(devil sign and morrissey’s voice)
“i am human and i need to be loved
just like everybody else does!”

i am wussy boy, hear me roar
(meow).

bar fight? pshaw!
you think you can take me, huh?
just because i like poetry
better than sports illustrated?
well, allow me to caution you,
I’m not the average every day
run-of-the-mill wussy boy you
beat up in high school, punk,
i am wuss core!
(flash “wc” gang sign)

don’t make me get renaissance
on your ass because i will
write a poem about you,
a poem that tears your psyche
limb from limb,
that exposes your selfish insecurities,
that will wound you deeper
and more severely
than knives and chains and gats
and baseball bats
could ever hope to do…

you may see 65 inches of wussy boy
standing in front of you,
but my steel-toed soul is
ten foot tall and bullet proof!

bring the pain, punk,
beat the shit out of me,
show all the people in this bar
what a real man can do
to a shit-talking wussy boy like me

but you’d better remember
my bruises will fade
my cuts will heal,
my scars will shrink and disappear,
but my poem
about the pitiful, small, helpless
cock-man oppressor you really are
will last
forever.

______________________________________________________

First  of all, thanks to PQS who celebrates with me and (and possibly now even transcends) my love for poetry.  I wish you could have heard his rendition of this poem (he reads aloud to me often and it is pure heaven) … I am still smiling.

Since PQS calls me and not you, your next best bet is to see the poet himself, the simply fab Big Poppa E, perform this poem on HBO’s Def Poetry Slam:  CLICK HERE.

Then you can read his Wikipedia page and, of course, buy his book.

xo, Angela

Beauty

Tony Hoagland

When the medication she was taking
caused tiny vessels in her face to break,
leaving faint but permanent blue stitches in her cheeks,
my sister said she knew she would
never be beautiful again.

After all those years
of watching her reflection in the mirror,
sucking in her stomach and standing straight,
she said it was a relief,
being done with beauty,

but I could see her pause inside that moment
as the knowledge spread across her face
with a fine distress, sucking
the peach out of her lips,
making her cute nose seem, for the first time,
a little knobby.

I’m probably the only one in the whole world
who actually remembers the year in high school
she perfected the art
of being a dumb blond,

spending recess on the breezeway by the physics lab,
tossing her hair and laughing that canary trill
which was her specialty,

while some football player named Johnny
with a pained expression in his eyes
wrapped his thick finger over and over again
in the bedspring of one of those pale curls.

Or how she spent the next decade of her life
auditioning a series of tall men,
looking for just one with the kind
of attention span she could count on.

Then one day her time of prettiness
was over, done, finito,
and all those other beautiful women
in the magazines and on the streets
just kept on being beautiful
everywhere you looked,

walking in that kind of elegant, disinterested trance
in which you sense they always seem to have one hand
touching the secret place
that keeps their beauty safe,
inhaling and exhaling the perfume of it—

It was spring. Season when the young
buttercups and daisies climb up on the
mulched bodies of their forebears
to wave their flags in the parade.

My sister just stood still for thirty seconds,
amazed by what was happening,
then shrugged and tossed her shaggy head
as if she was throwing something out,

something she had carried a long ways,
but had no use for anymore,
now that it had no use for her.
That, too, was beautiful.
__________________________________

I dunno, maybe you think the poem is inappropriate for a Phone Sex blog.  But this is also my personal blog and I don’t really see the everyday me (lover of words and poetry) very separate from my Phone Sex Goddess persona, and … well … this piece touched me deeply.  I did cry.  Maybe you will too. 

You can read a biography of the poet here, find him on Wikipedia here,  and read an interview here.

xo, Angela

… and thanks,  PQS.

****BTW … I will be working later today.  I have a session with my trainer and a few errands to run.  After that, you can call for Hot Kinky Phone Sex HERE!

****And if you want your ass kicked by the best call Domina Stern HERE!

****And if you want to pay for your strokes call Mistress Sherry Elizabeth HERE!

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:

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.

Mistress Eva Lordes of the website, Phone BDSM has started a sweet little BDSM community for Mistresses and Slaves, BDSM Sex, so if you have that particular bent, she will welcome you with open arms and perhaps a nice cat ‘o nine tails.  You can touch base and interact with Lifestyle Mistresses, Phone Mistresses, Professional Domiatrixes and a wide variety of submissive types. 

In just a few days time there are already over forty members, but every time I check back that number expands.  You can read member blogs, create your own blog, send messages to "persons of interest" and upload videos and pictures. 

So if you had no plans this weekend, now you do!

*** 

Slip of a Girl has opened up an Amazon Lingerie Shop which features just about every sexy girlie thing you could possibly desire.  And while you are checking out her blog (a must for all lingerie fetishists), note her Tops Spots List (to the right, about a third of the way down) where you can be listed for only $1.00.  She gets great traffic, so it is an absolutely fantastic deal. 

***

Sweat Shop Sissy just got a rave review from Jane’s Guide and I’m sooo jealous: 

Our host at SSS is a cross-dressing sissy and he (and his wife) loves it. His blog is a sort of discussion and play-by-play of their exploration into the world sissification; but he also writes about whatever strikes his fancy, which leads to some very interesting discussion. Additionally, SSS and his wife are avid exhibitionists and he regularly posts pictures of them in various states of dress and undress. Even (or especially) if you think the sissification of men is odd, this site is worth checking out. – Shay 

(And while you”re at it, have you been to Jane’s lately?  The entire site got a makeover a while ago and the new design is just adorable.  ie. The Valentine decor  includes a picture of a heart and key with  "We’ve got the key to your heart lust right here.")

***

Have you visited My Flirt Store yet?  It’s a great little new place where both Phone Sex Operators and Web Cam Girls are  selling a variety of items including MP3s, videos, erotic stories, and naughty pictures.  You’re sure to find some of your favorite gals there:  Simmering Mistress Nicole has a some "must have" instructions for Sissy Boys to download.    Phone Whore Karen (a rather submissive and very naughty young lady) is selling some incredibly hot pictures.  The beautiful and big-breasted Arielle has some sweet tease video and black stocking pictures available.  There are pages of goodies to browse, offered by a bunch of very sexy ladies, so be sure to check it out.

***

I’ve mention this before, but I wanted to remind you about Miss Eve Scarlet’s Phone Sex Node.  It is a free-to-join site for both Phone Sex Operators and Callers.  Blogs, videos and pictures are all free.  That’s a good thing.  And, yes, I am a member.

***

Do you have a hot site that pertains to fetish, kink, BDSM or anything in between?  If so, be sure to get listed at Polyfesishist, which is hosted by our own Submissive Savant, Richard of Down On My Knees.  He doesn’t require a link back, but it sure would be nice if you linked back anyway.  Dontcha think?

***

And, last but certainly not least, if you’re looking for a kinky forum at which to hang your CBT6000 (translation:  participating in meaningful,  intelligent conversation about all things kink) you won’t find a better gang than the people at  Fetish Lore.  The environment is open, sincere, supportive and even downright nurturing.   I can’t recommend it enough.

***

So I’ve given you enough to occupy your time and keep you out of trouble over the weekend.  But if you simply must have some trouble, you know where to find me.

xo, Angela