Charlieeeee

Wow - Red Lightedness

I went down Manchester (?) Street today - first red light street I've ever been down, it was a real life lesson, seeing these women dressed so provocatively and selling themselves so cheaply to anyone they can. I've seen numerous debates about why these girls work from the street instead of privately or in a brothel, and I agree alot of girls don't know how to 'go private' and some can't work in a brothel (I am one of those - too much of a niche market - one day, when I am rich I will set up a brothel especially for BBWs) and that just sucks, as these girls are putting themselves in so much danger, they sell them selves short, and probably see some real creeps. I'm glad I didn't ever think about working from a street, no matter how badly I need the money, I have my self respect. They can take my house, my car, my fucking microwave, but they will not, cannot EVER take my self respect.
Peace out *pounds chest with clenched fist, then pulls out the peace fingers*

No - one can make you feel inferior without your consent... think about that!

I think it is baby season now! I can honestly think of only 2 of my female friends who aren't either newly pregnant, newly parents, or about to spit one out! I have been to waaaay too many babyshowers, bought way too many gifts, and seen way too many preggie bellies! Start using condoms people!
On another note, I have just finished putting on my long shiny black finger nails, and it is really hard to type... I don't know how people can wear nails like these to an office type job, it's taken me atleast 10 minutes just to type this blog!!

It Sucks To Be Me :-(

There is this one guy who really grates me...(we'll call him Bob).
Bob is your average middle aged over weight shy guy with a lack of self confidence.
That does not grate me. It's his whining that grates me!
I first started talking to him, when he called my work phone, asking for a date sometime in the weekend.
I apologised, and told him I already had a busy weekend with dates and family stuff. I didn't hear from him again until he had returned home to the South Island - he added me on msn, and told me he was so excited about the prospect of seeing me, he just jumped on a plane and called me when he arrived. At first I was like, awwh thats cute... but THEN... a couple weeks later, I get an email from him saying he is just about to fly out to Wellington to see me, he would like an appointment that day, and he would give me a call when he landed. He had not made me aware of his plans to come see me and he had made no effort to make a date before he paid for the tickets, so by the time I had received his email, I was already fully booked, and had to turn him down again.
When he got back home, he replied to my email (apologising for not being able to see him) saying oh yeah.. sucks to be me, blah blah blah - I was sympathetic, but honestly, he can't expect me to be available at the drop of the hat, right??
I have my trip to Christchurch coming up on the 16th. When I emailed all the people who had enquired, I emailed him too.
His email back to me said... I maxed out my credit cards when I came to see you both times, I can't afford to see you now.
I reply saying something along the lines of, thats too bad, maybe next time..
then I get the email back saying (again) yeah... sucks to be me!!
Man that phrase is so annoying! It's whiney, and pathetic.
Anyway Bob... stop being so pathetic, grow some balls, and use your common sense and let me know atleast 2 days before you fly out, if you're coming down soley to see me! Geeez....

Anal

IT'S A ONE WAY STREET HUN!
Rimming is not so bad, it tickles, but feels plesent, UNLESS you need to shave!
How many of you would wipe your ass with sandpaper? Not me! But that is what it feels like! So if you don't sport a nice long beard, please shave before seeing me!
Thank you :-)

Pfffftttt....

Okay, I understand that not everyone can have dates with escorts at their house because of partners/flatmates etc, but why, after telling you that I am outcall ONLY, do you ask if I will suck your cock in your car, or on the beach, or in public toilets?! Classy!

How Could You?" - Copyright Jim Willis 2001

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask, "How could you?" - but then you'd relent, and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if need be.

I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.