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November 27, 2005
Don't let the truth get in the way of a good story.
Another Champagne fuelled 'launch party', another photo opportunity--another hat,- corset,- jewell and fur ensemble for moi.
As it happens, i DID (in photo form) indeed make it to Front page in the Evening Argus.
And then my attention turned to page 2----------
They say 'loose lips sinks ships', so it is yet ANOTHER lesson learned.
A snide of gargantuan proportions sidled up to me, and i am afraid i allowed pride (though not boastfulness) to impart to the weasel my forthcoming endeavours.
I told him about an article i had submitted to a local rag, and i was excited about the prospect of it not only being published----but of maybe my own column coming out of it.
Dumb, Dumb, Dumb....Have i learned NOTHING in this life??
I had the sense that he was mightily interested in the subject matter, and,..... TOO LATE....i was caught in a fervent flurry of phone calls and Emails.
'Look' i pleaded 'you cannot use this!!'
He pressed on with his own agenda and said in the most oleagenous way it would be 'helpful' if i could supply him with a document which would help him write a News Story.
'Look' i begged 'you cannot use this!!!!'
Undaunted he kept up the daily flurry of contact in his inate greasy style.
'Look' i cajoled 'you cannot use this...you will be stealing my thunder'
I told him i would inform him the minute i knew when MY article was going to press.
I knew this information a few days later.
'Look' i demured 'you cannot use this until THAT date....after which time, i will give you all the info you need'
'IT'S OKAY' he lied 'I'M WORKING ON THE 'FRIENDS CENTRE''
Two days later: A MESSAGE ON MY VODAPHONE VOICEMAIL
'Hi there, this is ****** press agency, would you like to comment about the story in today's newspaper, our number is.....'
WHITE IRISH FURY SET IN AND THE MIST OF MURDEROUS IMPULSES WRAPPED ITSELF TIGHT AROUND MY INDIGNANT SEETHING BODY.
Thrice the cock crowed and like the slimeball Judas that he was (and i imagine, still is)he denied/lied/ obfuscated.
I rang the press agency and with mounting horror i realised that he had attributed some soundbites and quotes---TO ME!!!!!
On many occasions friends and aquaintances have counselled: 'THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS BAD PUBLICITY'--to that i say: BOLLOCKS-----IT'S BAD IF IT IS A TOTAL LIE OR EVEN INACCURATE.
My trembling fingers punched out the telephone number of the pile of rancid DNA that serves as this REPORTER.
'ROWAN DORE HERE'****issues disclaimer*** (i use the name since it is already in the public domain)
'You did the piece' i spluttered.
In the most sticky ectoplasmic way he slimed me with an indolent, nay, INSOLENT: 'YEEAAAAHHHH'
Silence hung in the air like an unused lapdancer's pole.
'But' i choked pathetically 'you PROMISED ME!!!!'
'I was under pressure' was his rejoinder'
'HAVE YOU NO SOUL?' I practically sobbed. 'Do you have different molecules to other human beings----do you have NO code of conduct or ethics?' i screamed rhetorically.
'AAAAhhh, I GET INTO TROUBLE FOR THIS KIND OF THING ALL THE TIME'
And he wore those words like a badge of honour.
IT'S OPEN SEASON ON JOURNALISTS AS FAR AS I AM CONCERNED, so remember gentle men, if in the course of conversation (before i drag you to my lair) the subject of your profession arises---and if you are indeed of the above persuasion, if you could kindly do me a favour and...........LIE!!!!! You know it makes sense...your very survival depends upon it!!!!!
****PostScript to above story*******: THE REPORTER IN QUESTION WAS FOUND DEAD AT HIS HOME A FEW DAYS AGO....THERE ARE NO SUSPICIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES. ****Issues yet another disclaimer**** i was 200 miles away at the time of his demise.
I've heard of 'Karma' but this is ridiculous.
Posted by Letitcia at 04:51 PM | Comments (0)
November 19, 2005
Red light tours with Letitcia.
'A fascinating insight into the oldest profession in the world': this is the 'WALKING TOUR-DARK AMSTERDAM'
It is one of Thomas Cook's brilliant wheezes for visitors to Amsterdam.
....and the real kick in the pants is that: 'half price rate is offered for children........ and under 3's go for free'
How marvellous.
My childhood holidays were days trips to Hunstanton, Lowestoft, Cromer or Great Yarmouth. We ate gritty sand, blown into two heaving great slabs of white processed bread (maybe that's where the name SANDwich derived from) got to lick a 69 Mr Whippy and have a ride on a mangey donkey.
How times move on.
Thomas Cook say it is due to 'feedback from clients', and who are we to argue??
The predictable 'wowsers' have crawled from under the cloak of righteousness to protest.
I suppose it beats the hell out of museums, literary pub crawls, and monuments of interest.
From my eerie (balcony), i often witness families trying desperately to have a good time on the traditional day for the 2.4 brigade (Sunday).
Scratch the surface, and you see a bored DAD, a harried MUM and fractious KIDS.
IT LOOKS LIKE HELL ON EARTH TO ME.
So therefore this holiday holds great promise.
'Mummy, mummy---why is that strange lady on a swing?'
'Shurrup Kylie, here's a kroner----go get yerself a lemonade'
'Daddy------why is that lady waving at you----does she know you???'
'EE up Romeo,...... no lad-----go and see where yer sister is'
'Barry, are we gonna stand here all day?'
'No petal, but i'd love to buy you some nice underwear like she's wearing'
'Don't be daft'
''ere's some money love, go and buy something sexy for yerself----'twill be like second 'oney'moon-----and take yer time----i'm gonna go for walk'
If the premise floats on the stock market i'll be at the front of the queue.......
Posted by Letitcia at 04:17 PM | Comments (0)
November 11, 2005
The E.U rides again
It's 3 in the morning and you hear the tinkling of broken glass----what do you do?
Ring 999?------
------well actually NO.
Those meddlesome munters who are Masters/Morons of all they survey, have decided we in the U.K should all conform and be in line with what they have enforced in a few other countries that make up the European Union.
In one's fright, panic,terror and hysteria.... you must remember to dial 112.
Great. First we have the straight banana, uniform size of vegetables---and now this.
This is how the sex industry will be affected. (Don't laugh but they are indiously creeping into every area of our lives and THEY MUST BE STOPPED.)
Enter: A PATRON. I ask:
'Can i get you something to drink---water, fruit juice-----?'
'Got any alcohol?'
'cannot serve you any i'm afraid---EU. DIRECTIVE'.
'huh?'
'If you fall, i'm not covered for Accident Insurance if you have imbibed anything of an alcoholic nature'
Progressing to the Boudoir:
The patron makes to lie down on the bed.
'You cannot lie there i'm afraid---EU DIRECTIVE'
'what?'
'The bed is less than 4 feet from a gas boiler and therefore possible noxious emissions---nope, we just have to lie on the floor in the hallway'
In the home straight of a fabulous bit of fallatio:
I pause and stop;
'For fuck sake Letitcia, i was just about to come!!'
'Sorry,you have used up the requisite number of sucks------------- E.U DIRECTIVE'
'What are you going on about?'
'Britian spends more money in the NHS on neck and back injuries, therefore more than 100 nods of the head is deemed to be dangerous'
'Can i have a 69 then?'
'That's been abolished'
'Don't tell me...it's an EU DIRECTIVE right?'
'Yeah,...it's now an 88'
'But that's TWO FAT LADIES in a Bingo Hall!!'
'That has been abolished altogether.....it's sizeist and discriminatory'
'And 'legs eleven?'
'also disbanded--due to the hurt feelings of those without the requisite number of legs'
'What about abit of B&D or S&M???
'They have been remamed C of E and T in N'
'But C of E stands for Church of England!!'
'Not any more, too many people catching colds in draughty old churches---too much of a drain on the health service----numbers were dwindling anyway'
E.U DIRECTIVE
'What does T in N stand for then?'
'You will have to refer to paragraph 43 subsection 3---- (part 1V)---though i think it has something to do with Tienneman Square'
'BUT I WANTED THIS TO BE A MEMORABLE EXPERIENCE'
'Stand still with your legs apart then Sir'
****Letitcia uses her might and kicks Patron in his testimonials****
Crumpled in pain he gasps: 'What the fuck did you do that for??'
'Because it's something you won't forget in a hurry'
'Dial 999!!!!'
*****Kicks him in the bollocks again****
'IT'S SODDING WELL 112!!!!'
Posted by Letitcia at 05:17 PM | Comments (0)
November 08, 2005
Lightening strikes twice
What are the chances of: Not One, but Two men coming to my apartment (for different reasons) and telling me about a (sexual) stomach churning idiosyncrasy in the space of 6 hours??????
Number one 'sick puppy' was supposed to be filming a 'video nation' short for the internet/T.v
It is ingrained into my conciousness to offer a libation to anybody who walks through the door, and accordingly i asked cheeky chappy with camera/audio equipment: 'what can i get you?'
He surveyed a few receptacles, which due to the early hour--were in need of a wash and rinse.
'This'll do' he said, grabbing a glass which had previously contained washing powder and bleach.
'Bloody Hell' i yelped 'not that one it's had.........'
'Spunk.....have you been drinking your customer's spunk again?'
I think he was only HALF joking........ great frivolity all round and i answered in the negative.
'I do it all the time' he stated in a very indolent fashion.
'Oh, really....that's ...er.....nice'
I have no idea if he was attempting to seem hip, hop, and mega happening (as some do) in the presence of a sex worker----but, that particular refreshment was not my breakfast of champions.
'How did you discover your taste for spunk?' i enquired
He told a story of having been rubbed against by either a teacher or aunt or family member (cannot remember which), at a 'tender age'---and he quite literally self combusted.
His 'Seed of Satan' was very neatly held in his abundant foreskin (isn't nature wonderful).
He was a callow youth needing to dispense with his gunge----so he ate it.
Yea through the dark ages, as night follows day, this has become a curious habit of his. It takes all sorts.
After 5 INTRUSIVE, TALKING ABOUT ONE'S INNER MOST DARKEST DANKEST SECRET LIFE---he had to leave.
I had a booking, and my patrons (it is written in the constitution) DO NOT MEET ON THE STAIRS!!
My booking was adorable (as most of them are)---and post 'blow job to end all blow jobs', i couldn't help but talk about my previous 5 hours with a man who needed his 'protein shake' in the morning.
'Oh, that's normal, i do do it myself sometimes when needs be' he said,----- as he stretched lazily on my mink covered futon.
'You are having a laugh'
'NO' he replied with indignation 'sometimes you don't know where to put it, like, y'know-----if there's not a tissue around'
'YUK, YEEEEUUUUKKKK'i exclaimed.
So TWICE in one day i encountered worshippers of self lurve.
I asked the 'video nation' guy today (the one i have talked filth to for free): 'have you edited my piece yet?'
'Yep' he responded 'but i can't use it-----i should have told you to look into the camera-----d'ya fancy doing it again sometime?'
That, my friends, must be up there with the worst example of disemblence/perfidy, that i also i had from a boyfriend-----when i challenged him as to why he was playing 'tonsil hockey' with another woman at a party, his excuse was:
'I WAS SO DRUNK,.... I THOUGHT SHE WAS YOU!!!!!!!'
Posted by Letitcia at 08:16 PM | Comments (1)
November 04, 2005
Porn to be wild
'I want to be Porn star' he exclaimed
I, on the other hand, wanted to have a few days away from the madness of Brighton Gay Pride--------
AAAaaah, dear Al. The only Male Escort i know who travels 300 miles with a dozen red roses and a cheeky little rose champagne in ice cooler----- complete with Lalique crystal glasses.
What a star!!! And I was the recipient.
I decided to go visit his home town in the hope that we could maybe link up again---and besides there were other attractions to the city of Birmingham.
There was another guy advertising his services on AdultWork, and his incessant texting, whilst irritating, had piqued my libidinal interest.
I let Virgin Trains take the strain, and ascertained from the buffet car operater that:' there are more lapdancing clubs in Birmingham per square mile than anywhere in the U.K.' I SAY!!!!
Perversity being my middle name (i had a dinner date with Al at 8.30) i nevertheless proceeded to ring proposed conquest number two, hoping i could 'squeeze him in' before fine dining.
He wanted to come straight to my hotel, but i wanted to get the lay of the terrain----and found myself wandering to a development called: The Mail Box.
Next door was Malmaison the bar- restaurant, and hotel.
What the hell, i was on 'ho' holiday and wandered in like John Wayne just rode into town. As is my wont, i ordered a glass of chilled rose champage.
My waiter exclaimed: 'you're from Brighton aren't you?'
Bloody hell, i would make a dreadful career criminal---instantly recognisable from 4 hours worth of travel time.
I watched the friday lunchtime carousers gearing up for the big week end---and ordered another glass.
'Mr Adultwork' kept up the pressure text wise, but it was a beautiful day, i was free from the shackles of erotic service providing and the world was my lobster.
I eventually wandered (staggered) into the shopping complex and decided to have a late lunch----after all, i would be needing my energy!!!!
By the time i got back to Base i was knackered and decided to have a Churchillian 'power nap'.
The text fiend would just have to wait.
I roused from my slumber to find that i had 45 mins to make a glamour transformation for the evening ahead. My phone registered frantic texts from Mr Text---and a moment of madness won.
'Never put of until tommorrow what you can do today' they say. Accordingingly i put myself under the most heinous pressure, and said yes to my (for the past YEAR) ardent admirer. A quick text to tell Al i was running late.......but obviously ommiting the reason why.
Mr 'Why' rang the doorbell. Nice. Very nice.
I blurted, 'i don't have much time i'm going out soon'.
He was unfazed and proceeded to do to me what he had been threatening (boasting) he could do,........ for the past year.
I'm pretty speedy out of the starting gate where achieving a climax is concerned, but if i'm under pressure i lose the plot. My gunpowder refuses to go of with a bang.
I squinted at the time showing on the Hotel T.V----BOLLOCKS!!!!! I was was behind schedule!!!
I employed every technique i knew in the time honoured fashion of tipping over the climax cliff, and was failing miserably----it wasn't the delivery of the pleasure (the boy did good), it was knowing i had another cutie pie arriving at my hotel in 4 minutes.
I fantasised about cats (really) dogs (uh huh) big, small, old, young fat, thin, grotesques,borderline family members, scenes of unimaginable (apart from mine) depravity-------
My legs and face were twitching and i felt as if the beat of my heart was at the zenith of heartbeats allowed before pulminary embollism kicks in.
Bingo!!! What a relief, i allowed myself 20 seconds recovery and a 5 second cuddle. Big mistake, He wanted his Quid pro quo and i didn't have the time to recipricate. His mood changed like a tropical rainstorm---and he left (as in, flounced out the door on not the best of terms.
Al was waiting with a glass of chilled champagne downstairs and boy did i need it.
Dinner was a gastronomic delight at Brindley Place at a 2 Star Michelin (Raymond Blanc) joint
Our second night of pleasure went even better than on Al's inaugral trip and i showed him how to make it in the Porn world.
'Al, you are going to have to deliver the Money shot when the director says: 'GoGoGo'....so let's practice' i said
I counted down from 20...and by 7 his ardour was in spurt mode.
'Whoa there, a bit premature petal' i cried.
'I thought you was counting from 10' was his reply.
What a star...cumming to your T.V soon no doubt!!!!
Posted by Letitcia at 11:03 PM | Comments (0)