Why hasn’t somebody bought me this?  ‘Cuz, as we already know, I certainly do have a serious shoe fetish. Isn’t it adorable? I found it at the sweetest little place, Locher’s, where the selection is quite darling-cutesy–naughty. Of course, I would never fuck for shoes. Well, maybe if it were for like fifty pairs of shoes. Okay, maybe ten pairs. Stop laughing. Now I’m off to tell Slip of a Girl about this wonderful find. Things this good just have to be shared.

xo, Angela

If you watch CBS Sunday Morning, which happens to be a most awesome way to spend an early Sunday, you would have seen the piece explaining the title of this entry:

The word “pique-nique” – loosely meaning to “pick a thing of little importance” – originated in 17th-century France. Edouard Manet’s controversial masterpiece, “The Luncheon on the Grass,” captured the country’s naked passion for dining outdoors, though in reality, most did it fully-clothed. “Peek-neek” became the English word “pic-nic” – first appearing in print in 1748 in a letter from the Earl of Chesterfield to his son.

“He writes to his son, this is a great line: ‘I liked the description of your picnic intended more to promote conversation rather than drinking,'” Heminway said. “So, I love that idea, that image of the picnic as a catalyst for conversation or as an excuse for conversation and discourse. I think we would have fewer problems in the world, if we forced our world leaders to picnic together.”

So it was a long Labor Day weekend, to which I looked forward, planning on not laboring a bit, taking a quiet pause for myself — minus the “pique-nique.” Because, as I’ve noted before, I DON’T LIKE PICNICS. Alas, friends and family had other plans and while not working the phone or writing, which is what usually occupies plenty of my time, I was dragged to two picnics.

Now if there had been lots of water –in the form of a river or pool or creek or lake– I might have had some serious fun, because I do adore water sports. No, I’m not talking about that kind, you dirty-minded bad boy! But it does remind me of a joke: You can drag a whore to culture, but you can’t make her think. I can’t remember who told me that, but to whomever: Thanks! Unless you were talking about me, of course. If that is the case, you can call me on my BDSM line so I can kick your ass.

So the picnics weren’t so bad after all. I played Trivial Pursuit (Genus Edition) as part of a team and we won three out of three games, thanks to the members who knew sports and history, and  who’s smattering of scientific information worked well with my smattering. I also made my world famous German Potato Salad, which was a big hit.  In fact, all I brought home was the empty bowl. The second picnic was more in keeping with the French definition (see above), with only 5 guests and myself, and all that was required of me was a bottle of wine. I did get slightly tipsy and giggly. And happened to sleep very well that evening. Could it have been the wine?

So I’ve not been manning the kink-O-phone and have gotten more than a few emails wondering where I am. Well, I am here, that’s where I am. Just taking it a little bit easy, dontcha know? I am also dog-watching for a sibling who is on a three week vacation and was waiting for a maintenance guy to show up to fix my garbage disposal and non-working light socket above the stove.  Diagnosis: Disposal motor burned out due to putting long stem roses into it. Light socket just needed new bulb.  I should just surrender and bleach my hair blonde.

And…I watched Dr. Phil, who I’ve totally done a turn around on. I used to think he was another “psycho-babble” blow hard. Now I think he blows hard all right –hard and righteous– because he tells it like it is without sugar-coating it. I mean, after all, if you wanna get right, then quit wining about your plight and do something about it–for Chrizt’s sake.

Hey! Maybe I could do the David Webb thing, and fantasize about Doctor Phil the next time I’m feeling amorous.

Nah. On second thought, I’ve got enough men on my hands.

xo, Angela

You know what they say:

These men may jerk from sun to sun.

But my dirty words are never done.

…or something like that.

Which is to say that I put in a very long day on the phones and am very tired. Plus, I need to get to bed soon, so I am up in time for my dental appointment. (No worries, just a regularly scheduled cleaning.) But, before tucking myself in, I wanted to drop by and check in with all of you.

Have you been good? Or are you one of the bad boys who called me today. Of course that means you can blame all of your misbehavior and dirty deeds on me. So you’re off the hook. At least until the next time.

Soooo…

Best Blog Ever: Don To Earth Is this just not the coolest? Oh; to sit at his feet and listen to his stories, to take in all the wisdom he has to share. (Thanks to E. for linking me.)

I wrote a new poem, thirst.

But before that I wrote something very dirty.

And just let me say this about advertising: It is way out of control and they are sticking it to us every where we breathe. I am so incredibly amazed at the audacity which is now accepted as the norm, wherein television stations shove ads constantly down our throats even when we are in the middle of watching a show by running banners across the bottom of the screen during the entire half hour or hour. I mean, aren’t the commercials in between enough? Does everything have to be a “selling opportunity” that simply can’t be passed up?

Bravo –a station I simply adore for its gay-supportive broadcasting and because it is where I watch my beloved Inside the Actors Studio— is one of the worse offenders. But they have us by the proverbial balls, if we are fans of Tom Colicchio, Tim Gunn (yes, you can buy me his book..I’m dying to read it) and Jackie Warner (Sizzzzzzle!). So I am putting up with it, but pouting and grousing nonetheless.

Which, in my roundabout way, brings me to this: Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List rocks! For this show alone, even if all the aforementioned shows were not available on Bravo, I would still give in and watch. You have to see her to believe her. Tonight she actually went on a date with Ron Jeremy. And he was the perfect gentleman, dontcha know? But then, I knew he would be.

Oh, and: This and that about this and that.

One more thing: New Millennium Phone Sex

Can I go to bed now, daddy?

xo, Angela

I won’t be around for the entire day and evening. Going gambling with my mother earlier and have tentative plans for later in the day. So just a few random notes.

Mistress V has redesigned her entire site and it is simply scrumptious. Even though the new site is totally different she managed to incorporate purple, which happens to be (you should know this) her favorite color. She is also available for both long distance and real time slave training. So, if you are the submissive type, you simply must scurry right over there and check out every single thing. Make sure to take a peek at her very generous gallery for insight into her very real dominant nature, her beauty, and her humor.

Over at The Edge of Vanilla it seems that Tom nominated this blog with a very special award, The Thinking Blogger Award a while back and while simply overwhelmed with the honor, I’ve been remiss in following up.  In accepting it, I am supposed to nominate five other bloggers whom I think are worthy of the award.  The problem is that I have so many friends and colleagues blogging I don’t want to hurt somebody’s feelings by leaving them out.  So I’ve finally decided not to nominate anybody else and selfishly keep the plaque. Because I am an ego maniac with low self esteem. Not to mention passive-aggressive, anal retentive and a product of this modern Prozac Nation.

Richard, our cherished and adored Submissive Savant has started a new forum, Fetish Lore, where a group of mighty fine and high-thinking kinksters have decided that they’re “not going to take in anymore” and are about the business of killing kink cliches one by one. If you have kinky fantasies, curious fetishes, or a desire to dominate and/or be dominated, you might want to pop on over there. Members like Goddess Alexandra, Mistress 160, Vanilla Edge Tom, and many others are keeping it real, interesting and fun. It’s a very positive place and Richard welcomes anybody with an honest desire to interact and explore.

So…will you miss me? You better.

And keep your finger crossed. If I win, dinner is on me.

xo, Angela

…is what I will be doing tomorrow all day.

For those of you who don’t know, my mother is in a wheelchair and gambling is just her most favorite activity, carried over from before she got sick. Even if I had to beg, borrow or steal the money we use for our (warm weather) monthly outing, I would find a way to get my mother to the casino. If that is all it takes to keep her happy, who am I to grumble or deny her?

Here’s the rub: I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this to you before, but I was a closet smoker for quite a few years. And I have to say that I loved everything about it. Unfortunately, once I started working from home with my own business, it was much too easy to light one up at will and things were starting to get a bit out of control. Well, I quit a few months back and in ten days I will have been five months smoke free.

This has been hard at times, but not as hard as it could have been because of two things: 1. Lots of snow kept me homebound many days this winter, removing me from temptation’s way. 2. Smoking in public places was outlawed here last year. So I managed to get this far without cheating even once. Although there are days….. But, the main point is that I haven’t. I just haven’t picked one up even when the craving was intense.

So, guess what? Casinos are exempt from this law! Yowza! And if you’ve been to a casino, you know as well as I do that fat people, ugly people, bad dressers and chain smokers make up the majority of gamblers frequenting these rectories of iniquity. Just in case, I picked up some fake herb cigarettes. They happen to absolutely suck, but may keep me out of trouble if the need starts grabbing at me.

Now it is supposed to rain tomorrow. But you should know by now that I simply love rain. I really do. So that would just make the day better for me. In fact, much better.

Now if you’re wondering what we do up there: Well, we are girls and she is in the wheelchair…so we keep it simple and play poker machines and slots. I’m particularly fond of a slot machine that has this happy smiley face guy come out now and then to announce a bonus game. Another slot, The Price is Right, is a bunch of fun, featuring the voice of (now deceased) Rod Roddy and video versions of Plinko, Punch a Bunch, and the Dice Game. And yes you get to spin the wheel and bid on showcases.

Mostly, I leave the picking of the machines up to Momma since it is more or less her day.

But I will come home having either blown my wad or won big. I mean what’s the fun of it otherwise?

So keep your fingers crossed and wish me well.

xo, Angela