Letitcia's Blog

‘IN OLDEN DAYS A GLIMPSE OF STOCKING………’

On the day that I ceased employment at Jaeger, I was told by Mike, a member of the Export office, that in my 5 year tenure there, I had unwittingly (yes, really) driven the hot blooded men C-R-A-Z-Y with the odd show of fishnet encased buttocks (on the days I went commando), stocking tops (on the days I wore long skirts with deep slits at the side or back) and black underwear.
I truly had no idea.

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Apparently they would make afternoon tea, settle down with a plate of chocolate hob-nobs and get a ‘ringside’ (!!!) view.
It seems they would indulge in the childish practise of taking bets as to whether I would be wearing coloured knickers (never), the usual black or none at all.
My desk was situated in ‘Correspondence’, and their ‘Export office’ was in fact a dog leg round a corner, way the other side of a very large room. But they shifted all of the furniture the requisite ten feet so that they could spy with their little eye—necessity being the mother of invention indeed.
My ‘uniform’ in those days was cutting edge ‘Young Jaeger’ knitted dresses with approximately 10 yards cut off and re-hemmed to make the ‘mini dress’ that was all the rage back in the late sixties.
Of course I got the usual: ‘you’re not going out dressed like that’ from Mother, while Dad peered silently over his spectacles and tutted.
It is important when one is young, to enjoy people telling you the things you cannot or should not do, for the days of wine and roses, dear readers, they are not long. In fact they are about as short as my frocks in the swinging sixties
Over the years my girth got bigger and the length of apparel got longer and more sedate. My legs went from Madonna to Maradonna, and the hour glass frame went way into double digits. I had completely forgotten about the ‘short skirt syndrome’ until I recently reacquainted myself with a male friend from Australia. Back in the late eighties, he would buy for me (or have especially made) extremely short pleated skirts, with silk underwear and sometimes white socks, so that I could reprise the glorious days when he would sometimes catch one of his female school chums bending over to pick up the chalk or pencil from under her desk. Men are very visually led (as we know) but his thrill was actually being CAUGHT LOOKING.
Whilst in Brighton, he spent most of his time walking along the seafront wishing and hoping that a rogue gust of wind (and we have had PLENTY of that lately) would send flowing skirts into the stratosphere to reveal various types of underwear (relax ladies, he has now gone back to Oz, with happy memories).
Now, my friend is no pervert, he merely appreciates ladies of all ages, shapes and sizes for their femininity. I therefore positively encouraged him with nudges of: ‘Short skirt at six o’clock Bruce’ and he would fall down a man hole or bump into lamp posts while his mind was on his lifelong passion.
I made the mistake of pointing out a couple of lovelies to him as we were partaking of a fine bottle of Champagne (or three) in Browns on the eve of his departure. He put down his knife and fork and glass of Verve Cliquot’s finest, and went rushing out of the door to try and catch a glimpse of two young fillies out on the raz wearing what looked like a thick belt to hide their giblets and very little else. Well, I sat, and I sat, and…er, I sat, for TWENTY FIVE MINUTES. I muttered to the waiter: ‘Hope he chuffing well comes back, because he’s paying’ He returned positively beaming full of naughty school boy(ness) cheer, and described the journey he had taken all the way down West St to the Odeon, and we all know how windy it is on that corner don’t we people? In short (oh, no pun) he was in his element, so much so, I was left for dead. A while later, I espied yet another vision of pulchritude, and bugger me, off he shot again like a rat up the proverbial drain pipe.
This got me thinking about how common the phenomenon of the ‘syndrome’ was for the men folk.
I started a thread on the ‘Punting Bible’: Punternet, to see what responses I received on the question of short skirts. It seems Bruce is not alone with his predilection. Comments ranged from: ‘It’s the "forbidden fruit" thing. It just drives me wild when I walk past a cafe and a young lady in a miniskirt sits down and you get that split second flash of panty’ to ‘a glimpse of what you are not supposed to see is always nice tho’ I suspect is it often done on purpose’. After twenty or so comments, it was neatly summed up with: ‘Yes, this is absolutely one of those little things that adds immeasurably to the enjoyment of life - that momentary frisson of excitement and arousal is priceless. The game-play part also is good - the different reactions with those who deliberately give a little peek and those with whom it is inadvertent.......’

I delved deeper, and found there were forums/chat rooms which dealt specifically with this subject matter, I will spare you the glorious gory details, save to comment: ‘Everybody’s doing it’. By that I mean, Bruce is not alone in getting up at 4.30 in the morning to position himself at a Sydney railway station to seek out the odd sighting of the unsuspecting, skirt wearing siren.
I suggested he salve his desires (whilst in Brighton) with a visit to local shops to purchase magazines devoted to this very theme.
Alas, the cupboard was bare, save for the glamour of Betty Page, and some dreadful publications showing very young lasses being spanked rather harshly by much older (sadistic) men.

This was not what the short skirt doctor ordered.
Instead, Bruce bought a: ‘grow a toy boy’ figure encased in plastic packaging. It claimed that if immersed in water the figure
would/could grow to 600 times its size.
I nixed the idea on the grounds that I would wake up and find myself imprisoned by a rampant man shaped bouncy castle of room sized proportions.
It got me thinking that, if this is a pleasing innocent pastime of the lesser spotted rampant British Male, why is this not being catered for?
Answers on a post card please.
I personally think the time is ripe for coming full circle, less of the crass and more of the auto suggestion.
Over to Cole Porter: “Good authors, too, who once knew better words Now use only four-letter words Writing prose - Anything goes”
I will take that under advisement!!

Free time

Why is it that anything to do with the Media, Radio, T.V, Newspapers...is a pride swallowing siege?

]]> Do THEY work for nothing?
No
Would they drop everything so that the caller from whatever organisation might be able to snare a live one for NOTHING?
No
Have they no soul?
No
Do they respect the concept of 'time is money'?
No
So when i get a call from B.B.C Southern counties radio this morning, i knew what to do.
'Is that Letitcia?' friendly exuberant voice enquires.
'whats left of her' would have been the true answer, but i replied in the affirmative.
I knew what was coming.
She would want me to drop EVERYTHING, so that the mighty corporation might make great afternoon radio for the Tommy Boyd show.
I had been there before, a mere TWO YEARS BEFORE.
I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, but the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune has wounded me somewhat in that intervening time, and i had no intention of being cannon fodder, (even though SEX THERAPY FOR MEN (Creating Casanova) was now available in paperback through: www.chipmunkapublishing.com
As i suspected, she wanted me to repeat my 'drop everything' performance for the good of the cause.
Do these people feel no embarassment at all?
'And the fee IS?' was my crisp demand.
This got her all of a fluster.
She was non commital.
She then, and this was her downfall, commited the cardinal sin of reminding me what a sap i had been two years previously.
'Er, did we pay you the last time?'
'No' i replied 'you did not, but i now realise my sense of self worth'
I got the standard flanking depolyment of: 'It's only regional, we have no budget for that'
Yeah, right whatever...would you like me to bend over slightly more so that you might get your balls in as well you utter utter shits?
She made a final stab of: 'We could mention your website, whatever..'
Ha!!! Just when the government is trying to appeal to newpapers NOT to take advertising from 'Ladies that munch' they want to do it on the radio??
If i hear that old hoary chestnut: 'BUT IT WILL RAISE YOUR PROFILE' one more time, i am going to beg the Hove Priory to take me in for therapy.
****A twitch forms in Letitcia's left eye****

Aussie okker humour

Australians, (with maybe a few exceptions) may be useless where lovemaking is concerned, but they do make me laugh.......

]]> Just imagine sitting in traffic on your way to work and hearing this. Many Sydney folks DID hear this on the FOX FM morning show...

The DJs play a game where they award winners great prizes. The game is called "Mate Match". The DJs call someone at work and ask if they are married or seriously involved with someone. If the contestant answers"yes",he or she is then asked 3 random yet highly personal questions.

The person is also asked to divulge the name of their partner with (phone number) for verification. If their partner answers those same = three questions correctly, they both win the prize.

Anyway, here's how it all went down:

DJ: "Hey! This is Ed on FOX-FM. Have you ever heard of 'Mate Match'?"

Contestant: (laughing) "Yes, I have."

DJ: "Great! Then you know we're giving away a trip to the Gold Coast if you win.
What is your name? First only please."

Contestant: " Jeff ."

DJ: " Jeff , are you married or what?"

Jeff : (laughing nervously) "Yes, I am married."

DJ: "Thank you. Now, what is your wife's name? First only please."

Jeff : "Sara."

DJ: "Is Sara at work, Jeff ?"

Jeff : "She is gonna kill me."

DJ: "Stay with me here, Jeff ! Is she at work?"

Jeff : (laughing) "Yes, she's at work."

DJ: "Okay, first question - when was the last time you had sex?"

Jeff : "About 8 o'clock this morning."

DJ: "Atta boy, Jeff ."

Jeff : (laughing sheepishly) "Well..."

DJ: "Question #2 - How long did it last?"

Jeff : "About 10 minutes."

DJ: "Wow! You really want that trip, huh? No one would ever have said that if a trip wasn't at stake."

Jeff : "Yeah, that trip sure would be nice."

DJ: "Okay.. Final question. Where did you have sex at 8 o'clock this morning?

Jeff : (laughing hard) "I, ummm, I, well..."

DJ: "This sounds good, Jeff . Where was it at?"

Jeff : "Not that it was all that great, but her mum is staying with us for a couple of weeks..."

DJ: "Uh huh..."

Jeff : "...and the Mother-In-Law was in the shower at the time."

DJ: "Atta boy, Jeff ."

Jeff : "On the kitchen table."

DJ: "Not that great?? That is more adventure than the previous hundred times I've done it.
Okay folks, I will put Jeff on hold, get his wife's work number and call her up.

[ 3 minutes of commercials follow. ]

DJ: "Okay audience; let's call Sarah, shall we?" (Touch tones.....ringing....)

Clerk: "Kinkos."

DJ: "Hey, is Sarah around there somewhere?"

Clerk: "This is she."

DJ: "Sarah, this is Ed with FOX-FM. We are live on the air right now and I've been talking with Jeff for a couple of hours now."

Sarah: (laughing) "A couple of hours?"

DJ: "Well, a while now. He is on the line with us. Jeff knows not to give any answers away or you'll lose.
Sooooooo... do you know the rules of 'Mate Match'?"

Sarah: "No."

DJ: "Good!"

Jeff : (laughing)

Sarah: (laughing) " Jeff , what the hell are you up to?"

Jeff : (laughing) "Just answer his questions honestly, okay? Be
completely honest."

DJ: "Yeah yeah yeah. Sure. Now, I will ask you 3 questions, Sarah. If your answers match Jeff's answers, then the both of you will be off to the Gold Coast for 5 days on us.

Sarah: (laughing) "Yes."

DJ: "Alright. When did you last have sex, Sarah?"

Sarah: "Oh God, Jeff ....uh, this morning before Jeff went to work."

DJ: "What time?"

Sarah: "Around 8 this morning."

DJ: "Very good. Next question. How long did it last?"

Sarah: "12, 15 minutes maybe."

DJ: "Hmmmm. That's close enough. I am sure she is trying to protect is manhood. We've got one last question, Sarah. You are one question away from a trip to the Gold Coast. Are you ready?"

Sarah: (laughing) "Yes."

DJ: "Where did you have it?"

Sarah: "OH MY GOD, JEFF !! You didn't tell them that did you?"

Jeff : "Just tell him, honey."

DJ: "What is bothering you so much, Sarah?"

Sarah: "Well..."

DJ: Come on Sarah.....where did you have it?

Sarah: "Up the arse....."

They had to call an ambulance for the DJ. He thought he was going to have a heart attack , he could not stop laughing..
Apperently there was an unusually high call out of the Sydney Police just after this conversation , for minor traffic collisions..........

Plump Friction

My mother taught me never to talk to strangers, nor to accept a lift from one.........

]]> So what did i do the other day?....yes, i did BOTH, in the middle of London.
I had been promised lunch by the 'brothel creeper' himself, SEBASTIAN HORSLEY, and i had been issued the edict: 'Darling, please don't be late, i have another appointment at 3'
Quite right too, except, i was running behind schedule.
I had decided to try to WALK from Victoria station to Horsley Towers (somewhere in Soho), but didn't realise how bloomin' FAR it was.
London was gridlocked, and there was not a cab to be seen.
It looked as if i was going to be delayed to the point that Master H's distain would have been unbearable.
Added to which indignity, i did not actually know where i was going.
I was a stranger in paradise----SO, i asked directions from 'white van man'
Out came the map, and then, the offer of the century:
'Tell you what' he said 'i have another delivery in the next street to where you're goin'....i give yer a lift if yer like'
The thought somehow tickled me.
That is why ladies and gent, i found myself, in all my finery and jantily placed hat, in a: PULP FACTION: Recycling company van!!.
The blurb on their website states: A SINGLE SOLUTION TO ALL YOUR NEEDS.
I'll say.
I could have kissed him....except there was a baby buggy between the driver and passenger seat.
The spirit of adventure is still in the old girl.........

Reasons to be cheerful (not alot)

So, it is official.
According to newspapers, Great (ha!) Britain is the worst country in Europe (could have told you that for nothing) and ONE of the worst in the world where it comes to protecting the privacy of citizens.....
So, why don't i leave????..........

]]> Well, for one thing, i have a morbid fascination as to what is going to happen next.
I mean, the state of the nation truly is AWFUL.
My friendly neighbourhood newagent told me of a friend of his who had left Sri Lanka for Pakistan (poor bloke) and then decided to leave there for KENYA!!
You truly could not make it up!!!
Our politicians are no more or no less corrupt than any other nation, and at least i don't get beaten by the sex police for not wearing a fetching 'Chador' and woolen socks....nor do i get batonned by over zealous coppers for looking at them in a funny way...so i guess it COULD be worse.
I wonder what C.D disc of national importance the Home Office has lost today???.......

The font of all knowledge

I was in London town yesterday......

]]> I love London cabbies they are SO indiscreet.
The conversation turned to (what else) immigration.
It turns out (according to policemen friends of the driver) that some of the Minxs's from Moscow or Strumpets from Serbia (oh hell, just pick an Eastern Bloc country)
have a cunning stunt designed to put our boys in blue in a bad light.
THEY CUT THEMSELVES ON THE BODY AND THEN STICK THEIR BLOODY FINGERS UP THEIR CHUFF....AND CLAIM THEY HAVE BEEN ASSAULTED.
This reminds me of the case of robbers who sprayed their victims with human excrement and ROBBED THEM AS THEY PRETENDED TO CLEAN THEM UP.
Just one thing i would like to know
WHO TEACHES THEM THIS SUFF????
L

World cup whitewash

Bad enough that the try was disallowed and Wilko missed a drop goal/ penalty.......

]]> But did the British public have to REALLY suffer a screaming brat in a strop as the newly engraved cup entered the arena.
CHILDREN SHOULD BE SEEN AND NOT HEARD.....
I sincerely hope they do not follow suit in the Formula one presentatation which DESERVES to go to Lewis Hamilton.
The only screaming brat in the pit lane is Alsonso.......

McClaren munters

Who ever was responsible for leaving Lewis Hamilton metaphorically with his dick in his hand and losing grip of it LITERALLY......

]]> should have aforementioned dick shoved so far up his inept arse that the sinuses get a tickle.
Bernie Ecclestone must be rubbing his hands with glee........

Touched for the very first time

It seems the Dutch are taking a leaf out of my book(s)......

]]> An agency has set up a 'deflowering service' and it has indeed proved very popular.
God, I wish someone had taken ME in hand to prise my virginity from my innocent Catholic body.
Instead, I had to make do with a freezing cold back seat of some rust bucket, which passed as a car.
From foreplay to orgasm (HIS, that is) took a mere 7 and a half minutes.
I DID get a brand new watch as a reward when I saw him the next week... we actually managed 10 minutes of 'passion'
It is such a sweet thing to do (deflowering a Virgin that is) and I have always felt envious that there was not a male equivalent to the service which LETITCIA provides for those wanting the ultimate start in life.
Too late now of course........

Let the train take the stain

Anybody who has to use the Rail service (oxymoron) in the summer deserves a pigging MEDAL......

]]> I let the train take the strain the other day and wondered how the stoic daily commuters put up with the terrible conditions.
The phrases: 'cattle truck and 'sardines' spring to mind.
Having one's personal space invaded on a train is not my idea of intimacy.
But the WORST offenders are those with BODY ODOUR.
One such miscreant smelt SO BAD, that i could feel my nostrils twitching to the approaching noxious fumes from 2 CARRIAGES away!!!!
He stopped about 3 feet away to lean against one of the seats and check his mobile for messages.
Who on earth would want to contact this malodourous buffoon i do not know.
OI, ALL OF YOU RAILTRAVELLERS...GET A WASH!!!

Lewis Hamilton

If ever there was a living embodiment of the word TENACITY.....

]]> Lewis Hamilton wins the prize
His: NEVER GIVE UP NEVER GIVE UP NEVER GIVE UP attitude NEARLY gained a single Grand Prix point.
Most mere mortals would have driven their car into the garage and said: 'I can't possibly win any points today...so what's the point?'
Schummie was the same....he could start from the back of the grid and STILL you could hear the familiar sound of the Italian national anthem (for Ferarri) playing at the award ceremony
I was breathless with the twists and turns of today's race..with even the prospect of a good old punch up with Alonso and Masa before the champagne flowed
Who said Formula 1 was boring???

Big Brother..Best line by far

I don't watch it BUTi was looking for 30seconds and thought.........

]]> That's the most intelligent thing that ANY one has ever said.
POLITICS IS JUST SHOWBUSINESS FOR UGLY PEOPLE
Quite......

The Diana Concert

Sometimes there is a kind of perfect symmetry in life isn't there?......

]]> There was the uplifting and inspiring concert for Diana, with the hilarious sight of Wills trying to dance and clap and look hip...and failing abominably in BOTH categories (poor Kate if she has to put up with THAT rythem), Ricky Gervais doing THAT dance again...and that Joss Stone can bloomin' WAIL can't she????
Then you have the eejits of Islam hellbent on their verion of punishment because we are the infidel and they have the deluded belief that they are going to take over the entire planet and make it an Islamic State...HUH!!!!
Their merciless, boneheaded actions almost make Hitler look fluffy.
Like the people at Glasgow Airport cried (when a terrorist was being SAVED)
LET THE BASTARDS BURN
Amen to that.........

This government sucks

How come the entire population of the U.K does not rise up and revolt???........

]]> In a week where a loopy judge has let a a paedophile off with a slapped bott bott for raping a 10 yr old, .....where the E.U has issued another brainless edict to give human rights to invertebrates: ie---molluscs, insects etc with a fine of FUCKING A SQUILLION QUID FOR THE TRANSGESSION THEROF and a muted law (not yet passed) of HIDING ciggies to try to stop people from puffing..........
I have no hidden agenda, i long ago stopped smoking...but who are you trying to kid????
What's next? PROHOBITION? A BAN ON SEX PER SE? FREE THOUGHT?
Fuck you, and your over paid corrupt mandarins!!!!!

The Indie Grand Prix

I never thought that someone could top Murry 'GO,GO,GO,' Walker for sheer entertainment in Formula one, but i was wrong........

]]> Martin Brundle is a GOD, there he is busting along the drivers and visitors for last gasp soundbite, handling a monosyllabic Pharrel, who eventually sprang to life to talk in veiled terms about race (as in colour), when another commentator mentioned that there was oil spillage on the track
What was Martin's reposte: 'Having been up close to the track promotion girls i assume it is their makeup sliding off'
Excellent stuff!!!