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August 29, 2005
Three strikes----and you'll see my hand
As my essex mate Harry would say: 'you're 'avin' a larf aincha?'.....
According to the Sunday Newspapers..children...yes, CHILDREN at a secondary school, will be allowed to say the word 'FUCK'---not once, not twice and nay thrice-------FIVE MOTHERFUCKING TIMES.
(I'm swearing to emphasise the point)
And THAT is in the class room...to a bloody teacher!!!
After which time, you will be given a stern talking to.
You know what? I cannot wait to 'kick the bucket' and depart this mortal coil.
I simply cannot bear this erosion of standards.
I would not relish meeting the emproduct of this little exercise on a dark dank night.
In my day, (yes i said those words---which brands me as ancient)....to even THINK about being cheeky to authority, would bring the entire weight of the universe apon one's right to live.
Where has it all gone so horribly wrong??
In MY domain, these are the (unspoken) rules.
DO AS YOU'RE TOLD AND NOBODY WILL GET HURT
ONLY SWEAR IF WE HAVE AN AGREED FANTASY GOING ON BEFOREHAND
BE RESPECTFUL AT ALL TIMES.
Failure to comply means an untimely demise, and you will never be BODY WORSHIPPED by me again.
It's that simple.
No moving of goalposts to include ingrates
No ifs ands or buts.
Do as you are told/behave yourself---or you are toast.
After all, this code of ethics/conduct has stood me in good stead.
I am avowed as being a nice person, a good citizen, a great friend, a sweet woman, a kind daughter, a loving mate and a caring human being.
I just wish i lived in a universe of ME
Posted by Letitcia at 08:24 PM | Comments (0)
August 24, 2005
Vital statistics
This week's edition of Woman Magazine has (yet another) interview with yours truly.
It is the largest selling Mag in the U.K
Did you know that-----
--(and this is according to the headline of the article)---ONE IN 23 GUYS HAVE BEEN TO VISIT A SEX WORKER.
How the ****do they know??
I personally would say the percentage is 85%
Can you imagine doing a MORI poll a-la election time.
Does it mean that if a person standing in the middle of some anodyne and and faceless shopping center asks 100 guys if they have done the deed 'with the devil in a red dress' they will take the results as FACT?
GET BACK,JACK---AND GET REAL.
Where matters of extra curricular are concerned---in the UK anyway----MEN LIE THEIR ARSES OFF!!!!
There is no form filling involved when one wants a bit of rumpy pumpy--no 'how can we make this service better for you' thingy to fill out before you leave.
There is no national census for: 'have you seen a strumpet lately?'
Where do they pluck these figures from??
THE MINISTRY OF GUESSWORKS I GUESS
Posted by Letitcia at 12:03 AM | Comments (0)
August 17, 2005
Olga Korbet comes to Norfolk.
My sister and i had an unhealthy interest in a very dangerous practice when we were in our teens.
Did we self abuse with sharp implements? Had we been lured into a crack den fresh from the school gates?
Did we ride without a helmet on the back of the local lad's motorbikes??
No, it was MUCH worse------
----We used to hitchhike to get to dances and discos....the local lads were simply not GOOD enough for the likes of us.
The only males in our age group were deliquents, desperately inbred or ACTUAL village idiots.
No spotty oik was fit to finger OUR gussett.
Yes Siree, WE were going to bag at the very least, someone who lived in the NEXT VILLAGE ---if not, an actual TOWN!!
We would slap on the war paint and make ourself look 10 years older than our actual age.
Dad would look out of the corner of his eye from behind the newspaper, suck his teeth in a 'tut tut' manner and say in his lilting Irish accent:'Sure your're not going out with all that heelball on ya (another suck of teeth) bejeezus----!!!!!!'
We ignored him, he was just the silly old man that would call out to us on our departure; 'don't be late'
LATE?----we were jolly lucky to get home at all.
We disappearerd into swirling mists, driving rain, searing heat (in the days when we used to have summers) and gale force winds.
We were determined not to let the bloom of youth be hidden from a wider audience of yokels and bums.
We put ourselves through near death experiences (when artic lorries could not see us walking along the unlit roads)
We clambered into absolute NUTTER'S vans and we sometimes shared these varying modes of transport with all manner of livestock and pets----(the one i remember most was a rabid dog)
We encountered the 'ride for a ride' mentality. I shudder when i think of it.
And for what??
All we met were Nutters and those who ALSO had this 'ride for a ride' mentality----and they knew they were onto a winner, for it was the only way we could get the return journey home.
'JUST ONE MORE SUCK BEFORE WE GET YOU HOME' they would grin---and they would compound being dickheads by being moronic enough to FORCE our heads onto it---(a practice which i abhor to this day)
Even if you met an acceptable bloke---there was nowhere to go----the car was the boudouir.
How quickly one tires of the hand break popping the vertabrae one by one---or 3rd degree frostbite--because they didn't want to wear the battery down by switching the heating on----and single legs (as near as damn it, at an angle of 180 degrees) out of both wound down windows
of the lovemobile.
I could have been a hell of a gymnast, Olga Korbet doing the splits on the beam? Pa!!!! She didn't have a dick inside her at the time---though come to think of it---some of the gymnasts from the 'Eastern Bloc' were straddling the X Y chromosome distribution.
Anyway, i digress----My sister did INDEED bag a Naval Aviator whilst i searched globally for my main man.
If i look any further afield it will truly have to be called: HITCHHIKERS GUIDE TO THE GALAXY.
Posted by Letitcia at 02:06 PM | Comments (0)
August 08, 2005
A hand in a velvet glove
Man arrives home with a both ravishing and unexpected bunch of wildly expensive flowers.
His Missus drags him by his silk tie up the stairs to the bedroom---where, to the astonishment of her hubby----she rips off her clothes in a manner of total abandonment---lies down on the futon---splays her legs and cries
'Darling, this is for the flowers'
To which he replies: 'Oh don't be silly, you must have a vase somewhere'-------
An oldie but a goodie----
Why did i remember this joke today??
I read in my newspaper that people are having trouble finding CANDLES TO FIT THE CANDLE HOLDERS.
It seems the Department of Trade and Industry has taken it's gimlet eye off of the regulation for candle wax--or lack thereof.
The only candles which can confidently be bought are made by the stalwarts of illumination: Price's Candles-- (i have no link with this company!!)
The cheaper foreign muck invading our shores are too big or too small.
Isambard Kingdom Brunel had his standard 7'6" (i can't remember the correct width--and i NEVER refer to any text book) railtrack gauge, where by contrast, the train which spans Australia from East to west---HAS TO CHANGE THE FRIGGING WHEELS half way across the Nullabor Plain.
That's what i call bad planning
YOU CAN ALWAYS RELY ON A VAGINA THOUGH,
No job too big or too small.
THE MOUTH IS THE SAME
and to a lesser degree the Anus.
OFF-PRO takes sex worker's trading standards very seriously.
The Prossie Ombudsman takes a very dim view of the recepticles not being of girth/width as specified in:RAMITIN MONTHLY.
If you are not operating with a bona fide orifice---please fill in form qkv69--and send to 'doesn't bleedin' fit' at Hole Headquarters WC1
I remember reading about a very famous Holly wood producer/ director, who, when quizzed about the longevity of his marriage in a system where divorce is rife---simply replied: 'It fits'
AH, isn't nature wonderful??
Posted by Letitcia at 12:01 AM | Comments (0)
August 07, 2005
Two Box Odessey (part 2)
I know i said i was going to leave them amongst the soggy discarded take away wrappers of Brighton Pride---
But i am a Tart with a Heart after all----
They get to do the trifecta, the whole enchilada---and rack up much road miles
My books--or what's left of them---are now: IN PIGGING MANCHESTER.
If i cannot get a mate----who happens to have relocated there from Brighton (though via London)---
Yep, you guessed it---on the van from Manchester to London through to Bournemouth and BACK to Brighton.
In fact i think they know the route so well, they could hop on the van itself .......THIS WILL RUN AND RUN
Posted by Letitcia at 06:00 PM | Comments (0)
August 01, 2005
Two Box Odyssey
I cannot remember the last time i had a holiday----but there are 104 of my fabulous books having the time of their lives--at MY EXPENSE!!!!!-----
Listen very carefully, for i will say ziz only once: THERE ONCE WERE TWO BOXES of my books (104)........ from the printer's in Lewes, they then wended their way to Babylon by the sea, 'Brigthonhelm'
They were indeed fortunate, in that they wound up in my sumptuous apartment in Kemp Town--and were placed next to my radiator (it was November).
Then the nasty ogre 'arry grabbed them in his well honed arms (he says they are like pythons) to ferry them the short distance to his store where he was going to sell them for filthy lucre.
They froze their bollocks off.
No median temperature of 75 for them.
they were in the stock room/toilet area.
'arry wanted to relocate to the Costa del Crime (only joking 'arry) and these final 2 boxes of unsold items were carried lovingly/lugged by their spiritual mother--- (me)---200 yards up the street to the Clonezone store,
Tony the manager (bless him) looked after them as best he could, though he did wrap them in cotton wool --just in case homosexuality was catching.
Two weeks later they got their call up papers.
They were to star in my COVENT GARDEN BOOK SIGNING.
A nice van was coming ALL THE WAY from Manchester, via London---through to Bournmouth and FINALLY they were picked up and journeyed up to the 'big smoke'.
They finally saw daylight, they were unwrapped by SonJa and Alan, who, let's say were 'a match made in heaven'.
They were strewn around the Kinky coffee shop and lounge area---where on the night of the signing they were (like their Mum) fondled, stroked and assiduously perused.
Unfortunately there were other BODYWORSHIP books in stock---and once again they were unceremoniously packed back in their little box and dumped in the stock room.
They were feeling mighty unappreciated (i know the feeling)---especially as i had abandoned them and dragged both my gargantuan hangover and myriad hatboxes back to Brighton.
Guilt pricked my concience (once a catholic girl, ALWAYS a catholic girl)and i resolved to pick them up---though not literally, since they are sodding heavy.
We (myself and cheeky chappy Carl) eventually rescued them with a commando like raid on the premises.... and spirited them away in a London Cab----just one mile down the road to Soho.
Old Compton street was to be their home for a while---or so i thought---but the dastardly Manager of the shop didn't want them taking up space---AND THEY WERE PICKED UP BY THE MANCHESTER LONDON BOURNMOUTH BRIGHTON VAN.
They are now taking up space once more in Clone Zone Brighton--i popped in to see them the other day, i swear i heard them whimpering---but they will (all things being equal)be appearing on the stall at Brighton Gay Pride
The problem is now: Do i leave it in the hands of the head honcho's from either London or Manchester ---who will be coming to Brighton especially for the gay festival--or have i got to chuffing fork out MORE ill gotten gains, to ensure that the public can be polluted by my tawdry offering----
If they do put in an appearance on the trade stand, and for some reason they are not sold---I AM BLOODY WELL NOT HEAVING THEM BACK INTO BRIGHTON.
They can stay and be trampled on by 100,000 cross dressing, transgendered,lesbian/gay,pre op, post op, mid op---i don't care.
Kids!! who'd have 'em eh???
Posted by Letitcia at 08:38 PM | Comments (0)