Chronic Ruination

A week in California, 2 weddings, whoring myself out for an  unpaid internship.  My summer has been crazy so far!

I’m supposed to be at an intern meeting/dinner/bullshit fest  right now but… I’m not. That would have meant a MINIMUM of a 45 min drive with the other intern I’ve been letting bum a ride with me.  Not happening! Not in the mood today!

I’m going to Bebe later to find something cute for this weekend and then hang out by the pool until later on. I hope she found another ride or knows the train schedule!   She’s 24 years old and STILL in undergrad! On our first day, I made the mistake of introducing myself and attempting to have a conversation  that included open-ended questions.  I must seriously hate myself.

She talks nonstop about her “pets”.  Interestingly enough, 95% of them could one day easily be found all dressed up in cling wrap, resting peacefully in a styrofoam tray at your local grocery store.  Yes, she’s a farm girl but not the type some of you pervs like.   I’m sure she loves her poultry, pork, beef, and lamb as if she whelped them herself.  I’m sure they fill some sort of void in her life.

I mean I’ve got pets too, but I don’t think she could handle hearing about “rosie”, my lobbyist turned lipstick slut. It’s really amazing what a grown “man” will do for permission to wear her lipstick. I’m thinking of letting my rosie go pick us out some things at the MAC store.  It’s my favorite little game.  I show up 5 minutes after she does, then text everything that I want while I’m browsing.  She pays for it all then I pick one thing out just for her and buy it.  Then we meet up somewhere fun for playtime and gift exchange.

Anyway, out of stream of conciousness blogging/dommespace and back to cowgirl

If I  talk about movies, she turns the conversation to her “pets”.

If I talk about whatever it is we’re working on, I get 1.50 minutes of relevant conversation, then back to the fucking underweight breeched calf, Gabriel, who defied the odds .

If I want to talk about guys, well that’s a bit different.  She’s a born again virgin and reminds everyone around her of that “fact” if anything even remotely close to a sexual topic comes up.  HAHAHHA!  Yeah, me too!!    I’ll be one until this weekend probably.  Then I can just wish/pray myself another spiritual hymen until, my flesh decides it wants to get weak again.

Ok, I need to stop!!  I’m trying to be more spiritual and stuff.  I’ve been reading the Tao and I’m trying to be a little more sensitive these days.  I even listened to her for the first few days….REALLY listened.   At first I thought maybe  she had a mild case of Asperger’s or something.  She’s kind of sweet, but in a really, really slow way.

I think she’s just “good country people”; kind of like in that short story.   Loves her God, loves her country, loves Bush/McCain/whoever wants to play toy soldiers with real people.  She’s charming. Who doesn’t love people swaddled in the security blanket of not having to look past Daddy’s working-class politics?

One day, at lunch, one of our supervisors was talking about how ignorant Michael Savage(Savage Nation) is.   Cow girl didn’t know who he was, so the supervisor starts filling her in.  One little jewel that the supervisor shared was about Savage’s belief that Mexican migrant workers doing #2 while  harvesting was the cause of the spinich/e.coli fiasco.   Cow girl starts staring at me midway through the story.  As soon as the supervisor pauses to thank the waitress for filling her glass, our cow girl blurts out:

“I think it’s so wrong that everybody does you guys so bad and says such messed up stuff about you guys, but that’s just so trashy and nasty. I know a lot of really nice Mexicans  that help my Dad and his friends but those people doing that stuff to the spinich is why they need to tighten the border.  Things like that make it unfair for the people that work hard and are decent”

Give or take a few helping verbs, that is pretty much exactly what she said.  Unbelievable!

I think I was transported instantly to the set of a film called: “Rudyard Kipling’s New Nightmare”.   Mel Gibson was directing and getting a sloppy blow job from cowgirl.  He was yelling at me to flash  some tit  as   some  relatively unknown white actor fucked my ass.  Nearby, a relatively unknown Native American/black actor Rudy Youngblood is forced to watch while bound, sweaty, gagged and baring his teeth in anger.

That prety much gives an adequate visual of the place that her words took me.

Mexican?   Haven’t heard that one since elementry/junior high days in Mississippi.

I took some time to explain to her that I was Choctaw, not Mexican.  Clearly, her public and/or home schooling  has failed her.   It really wasn’t the place for a huge history lesson, but I let her know that actually being born in Mexico makes a huge difference in whether or not a person is Mexican!!  The brown skin thing can go either way, people, FYI

I told her that simply identifying racially with someone who says something stupid does not mean you owe everyone who doesn’t identify an apology for any slights.  The black person who is making sure we get course credit, and her queer Jewish roommate were not about to call Al Sharpton or anything so I don’t know why she turned red and started crying right there at the table. Wait, yes, I do.

I understand the burden that some people feel when they’re around someone who is different from them in some way.   The pressure of knowing that you’re so right and not quite understanding when other people “just don’t get it”.  Mix all of that with  pressure to say the “right” things;  the politically-correct things.  All of this  pressure takes the possibility of discovering any real  truth and turns anything that’s left it into  what Gabriel will leave behind if he makes it past the veal years.  Call it the white man’s burden.

Im not white or a man, but  I feel it every day when I want to ask cowgirl what sort of perverted affirmitive action-style program allowed a Jerry’s kid all grown up to work alongside people with 4.0′s and SAT scores over 2000.  (Note to Michael Savage:please cover this strange new trend.  It has to be some strange new adult version of No Child Left behind.)  Instead, I just say something nice and ambiguous like, “It’s a good thing we aren’t actually getting paid for this right?”

Ok, enough ranting.  Be more than just another random visitor to my blog,  let me know how you feel about things like this, leave a commment. I don’t have time right now to respond to every single email that was in my Niteflirt inbox, so here are some quick messages for the sluts who almost ruined their panties when they couldn’t reach me for a bit.

If you just  overloaded your coke spoon, leave me a confession that will make me laugh, then arrange a call with me using a button on the right.  I’m talking to you molly.

chrissy,  I’ve had enough of your one million and two excuses for everything then your whining when I’m away.  I think we’re going to bump your “first date” up a little.

I’ll be around on Niteflirt sometime around 10 or 11 pm EST.  Just ignore the schedule in the All About Me section; it’s obviously not going to work, I’ll delete it later.

I had a VERY interesting day on the phone today…

As usual, I get a slut on the phone whose Y chromosome left him a little short-handed.   I never like for these boys to tell me initially just how tiny it is I love building up to it; I like the shock!

Size is so subjective.  My tiny is probably what you consider small. Everytime a guy tells me he’s less than 5 inches rock hard, I don’t automatically think about how worthless he must be sexually.  It makes me wonder what’s wrong with the rest of him, then I think about how worthless he is in bed!!

Thinking in terms of natural selection, actually getting to breed, passing on genes, etc… the most genetically superior members of a species have the most symmetrical, well-formed physical characteristics.  Short and malformed appendages are just one big neon sign that the person may not be who you want to pair up with to make babies…or for  any other reason.

The slut on the phone with the not-so big neon sign between his legs told me that he actually does have a condition called micropenis that causes him to basically have just a nub!!!  Considering the things he told me about his sex life, I thought he was just trying to make me laugh, but he wasn’t.

I still laughed, but not nearly as hard when I googled micropenis and came up with this awesome article. I wonder if he realizes how truly hilarious his question is.  Check it out, and if it sounds like you…give me a call!!  Don’t be a victim of your nub!!  I can find some alternate uses of your sexuality or lack there of!!  I’ll be on around 4am EST, maybe before if downtown sucks tonight.

At least it shouldn’t.  Since L** has been gone I’ve had to fill the social void in my life. So lately I’ve been hanging out with this guy I met last year, but never really took the time to get to know on any real level.  If I had to define our thing, I’d have to say that he’s a Trader Joe.  You know,  one of those people that you call to help the time go by while you’re doing stuff like grocery shopping?  It’s  hard to actually get to know people like that on any real level because  you’re always half involved in the conversation, and half involved with whatever randomness going on.  Since all my usual people have either gone back home for the summer or doing the study abroad thing, I decided to call my Trader Joe.

He’s actually pretty cool.  We’ve been laying out by the pool, finding out what our girl and boy parts are good for, running errands…

He’s actually a pretty cool guy.  Not clingy, and soooo hot!!  Thick curly blonde hair, green eyes, awesome body, 8.75 THICK inches…but he’s 5’7!!!  I’m 5’10.  Still, he’s my new buddy for the summer I think.

We went out last night, or at least attempted to.

Sometime late last year, the overly concerned government officials of my locale decided that the 18 to party, 21 to drink thing was contributing to the decay of society in some way. It wasn’t a problem though, I paid my 26 year old cousin $30 for her driver’s license. We don’t look that similar.  Her biological dad is white, but she’s brown with black hair…close enough. Business as usual until last night…

The guy working at the bar we were going to hit up first looked at “my”(I paid for it so it’s mine!!) driver’s license then at me.  He got this smug little smirk then asked me to tell him “my” driver’s license number.  Of course I couldn’t and I tried to play it off.  Does anyone really know their license number?  He was all too happy to ask me what color my eyes were.  Fuck, my cousin’s eyes are green!!!!  Then he proceeded to take my license and tell me how much trouble I could get into.  I swear he probably had a hard-on, he was so happy to tell me that.

I’m already working on another one, but I don’t get the cousin discount. Hopefully, it’s not the same guy who did this masterpiece

Oh well, it needs to hurry and get here.  Before, I start my summer job, I plan to go to L.A. in a week or so and some other places. It’s really not worth it to try and get some door  Nazi to let me in without carding, so I’m hanging out at home.  Use one of the arrange call button on the right if you want to make your night a little more interesting.

Good news!  Spring semester 2008 is officially two weeks behind me!!!  As most of my little domination phone sex bitches know, that means I’m available without having to necessarily arrange a call.   Check out the about me section of my page to see the days and times I’m around  each week.

Bad news…

My best friend with benefits/sometimes roommate left this morning to go back home for the summer.  I love my “Lex”; she such a hot little bitch.  Seriously,  it’s like fucking the 5’8″,  blonde,green-eyed version of myself. I’m not above admiting that I  like certain people and want them around me simply because they serve  as a reference point for some of the things I love about myself.

Yes, I’m a girl-prick for saying something like that.  No, I sleep at night just fine and somehow manage to drop a dollar or two in the Salvation Army kettles around the holidays too. She’s the best friend I’ve probably ever had but I do have a few issues with her.

She swears we’re the same size, when she’s really about a Banana Republic size 4.  Vanity sizing victimization is so real and so sad! She’s stretched so many of my things beyond recoginition. She, her dad, or the main guy she usually hooks up with always pay for what she ruins so it’s not entirely a huge deal.  I don’t know what she gets out of having a closet full of my pre-worn size 0 and 2′s that’s she’s mangled and stretched to fit her. Oh well, it’s not for me to understand I guess. I just hope she doesn’t eventually turn into this. Sometimes all you can do is hope…

She’s also HUGE on proximity play and is such an attention whore. If we’re out shopping, eating, clubbing, whatever and she sees a guy or group of guys…she’s ALL over me.  It doesn’t matter if the guys is actually fuckable or fugly, she’s a little too happy to display her girl on girl-friendliness!

Ok,  it’s fun…sometimes…most of the time.  We were in Phipps a few months ago waiting in line at the sushi place.  We were giggling at this old couple in front  of us: 40-ish,  your classic example of a marriage with strong stockholm syndrome overtones.

The wife was loudly going on and on about stuff that wouldn’t matter to anyone not named Jesus.  I still think that the Word made Flesh and any of his hispanic namesakes might have a hard time being around this woman for longer than 5 minutes.  The second the hostage would try to add something to the conversation, the wife would pretty much ignore him and keep her little monologue going.  It was pretty annoying.  Eventually, she told him to wait there while she found a restroom, and told him to hold her bag. I could see the sides of his face crinkle into  up into a pretty decent grin.  I’m not sure why he started smiling after being forced to hold something that couldn’t even pass for one of those gay little manbags.  Maybe he was glad for just a few moments of peace or he may have been genuinely happy to hold his warden’s bag.  I only had one thought on my mind, “why would anyone go to a restroom and not take her bag with her?!!!” Especially since it was one of these !!

Lex and I were talking about how amazing it was, when the hostage turned around told us that it was the ugliest thing he’d ever spent half a mortgage payment on. My first thought was, “Oh wow, it speaks?!!!”  Then I started thinking about how sad it is to see a man whose life is half over with, still trying to impress two girls he’d never met with something that belonged to his wife!!  To get all poetic, it’s like he had fallen on both sides of the front of the obvious civil war going on within himself.  He tried to sound so smug as he casually tried to, no in any way at all subtle, let us know just how much financial girth he was working with. On the other hand, the poor guy obviously had fallen into a foxhole he probably never imagined himself in twenty or thirty years ago.  Middle-Aged and trying to act like the guy with it all, while holding the most feminine(it’s got fairies on it!!) of fetish objects.

We talked to him for a little bit more, just slightly less inane stuff than his wife was spewing. He asked us if we’d like to go ahead of him since there were only a  few people left before it was his turn to order and he wanted to wait until his wife came back.  Guess he knew better than to order for her .

As soon as we stepped in front of him, Lex reached around my waist and rested her hand on my hip.  She looked back in his direction and told him she hoped his wife wasn’t going to keep him waiting too much longer.  At the same time, she snaked her finger along the waistband of my skirt.  She  took her time finding my g-string and tugged gently at it until part of the thin, silk material was more than clearly visible over the top of the waistband. I let a few of her eager fingers dip as far down the front as possible.  See?!! Such an attention whore!! When I felt her fingers start to appreciate the awesome job the esthetician did on my wax, I was inspired by  the same sort of charitable spirit, as when I toss a few dollars into the previously mentioned Salvation Army kettle. I turned to the side to give our new, middle-aged friend a little peek.

I enjoyed  the tease and denial game Lex started and I’m guessing the hostage did too because he held his wife’s bag right in front of the hint of a bulge that he didn’t cover up quickly enough before we both saw.  I asked him which color he likes better, magenta or fuchsia. Of course he didn’t know the difference.   I explained to him that my panties were magenta. Then I cupped Lex’s ass with my hand, and slowly mimicked the same method she used to show him mine.  I didn’t get the chance to give him a peek at what fuchsia looks like, because the warden came back!!  The look on his face when I told him that maybe he’d like to have his place in line back because his wife/warden had come back?  Well let’s just say that it was worth a million Prada fairy bags!!  Oh well, guess he’ll have to learn his colors some other time.  I’m sure he became pretty familiar with one in particular that day…

Speaking of…

Here’s a bit philosophy for the chronically aroused and unrelieved dick stroking sluts. If your balls go unreleased, does your sexual frustration ever make a “sound”?   I’m sure our plaything at Phipps that day will forever equate the sound of his wife’s heels  with the ruin of what would have probably been the most interesting day he’d ever had in his life.  Another few minutes and  he probably thought we would have exchanged numbers and had lots of interesting days.  Not even close, but I like to give guys like that hope.  Sometimes, a little charity and hope is all any of us has to hold onto.

Be the best or sit down, shut up and beg to watch someone who is….

Mfs.(Princess) Kara

I’m so glad the semester is final over!! My course load wasn’t that bad.

It’s just that for some reason, professors/instructors/t.a.’s think that their students want to hear them talk about their cat, their piece of shit car, or whatever else matters to them.  If any of you reading my blog are college/university faculty and are guilty of this, find a fucking outlet!!

I don’t care what it is.  Looking at porn on university computers and jerking off before you give a lecture is classic and effective!! I don’t know why I bothered going to class half the semester because almost all of the lectures would end up going this way.  Before I sent my laptop to hell by spilling a Caramel Macchiato on it, I’d spend most of my time in class on Perezhilton.com.

It’s a celebrity gossip blog type thing, like TMZ. That’s not my thing most of the time, but Perez is like the male,fat, gay, Cuban version of me!  He’s such a cunt….and I love him for it!

I love him even more for this. Check out the entire post here. His wife, Posh Spice says that thing is like an exhaust pipe!!

Take note boys…if you don’t look like this half-naked, the only thing you can do for me is listen outside the door and whine to be let in while I play with someone who does!

If you’ve got a significant amount of sagging going on in the front of your tighty whities… maybe something pink and silky is more your thing.  I’m just being honest!

If I’m hooking up with a guy and I find out he has a dick deficiency, I can’t even look at him sexually. Game over, instantly! It’s amusing, really because it seems like the more inches they are away from 8….the harder they try!  Let me just say for the record, most girls that are under 160 lbs, and that aren’t under the influence of roofies are not going to hook up with a 5 incher!  There are some exceptions, they’re probably Mormons, but there are exceptions I guess.

So why not, give me a little entertainment?  If you’re 30 and over and 5 inches and under, leave a comment.  Let me know what your sex life has been lik, or how expensive it’s been . I need somthing to laugh about and I’m sure there are plenty of like-minded ladies who will  get a good laugh at your nano-dicks too.