by jamie joy
 

So I'm surfing the net to find a sexy Santa pic, and what do I find? Gothic Santa Pics. These are photos of Goths in shopping malls across America taken with none other than the mall Santa. I'm not shittin' you.  Check it out. It is THAT lame. I found something WORSE. Santa Porn. Please, no "ho ho ho" jokes. Ow. Meanwhile I'm worried that my friend Darren-- who split for a weekend in Vegas with a chick he met on the Net-- and was ridiculously secretive about the whole affair-- really met up with some serial killer since we have no contact information, etc. In the meantime, I hope to Goddess I am wrong and that he's getting laid properly and doing insane Vegas-like things, stuff  like Johnny Depp did in the movie about Hunter S. Thompson which I didn't even see cause I read the book and figured it was better, except no Johnny Depp.

December 13, 2001 5:47 PM CST painometer rating of  99 kinkometer rating of  41 email your sympathies Usually the word "oral" when written by slutmeister JJ is done so in the context of A LOT OF FUN... but "oral" coupled with the word "surgery" and mulitplied by "four or five visits" can make any girl cry. So that's why I haven't written much this week. At any rate, my face feels as though a golf-shoe wearing sadistic midget has been tap-dancing on my face. He may have broken off chunks of my right mandible. OW.  Here's a picture I found on the net-- sorry I can't credit the artist, but I love it and I thought it might cheer me up to post it. Send me get well cards! I am sad... ;-( XXX jamie joy

NEWS FLASH! This just in from my pal Jill: 

Source: Slate's daily summary of major newspaper articles: 

A WP reporter has uncovered more papers in a house left behind by fleeing al-Qaida. These notes instruct terrorists not on the art of weapons-making but on the ways of the West. Included in the tips is the advice that deodorant goes on the body, not the clothes, and that men will be "in big trouble" if they accidentally apply women's perfume instead of cologne.

It would be funny to plant strange cultural instructions in various places for spies/terrorists to follow. Just random shit like, "Make sure you never-ever flush the toilet when you take a shit, as it is very impolite in America. There are special lower caste toilet flushers who will do this task. So always, always shit in public restrooms." 

Write up and plant some really gross, stupid things like that in order to make the terrorist/spies look retarded and impolite-- and just so they'd basically be generally hated. 

Include further instructions like this: "Always address any strange woman (shopkeepers, policewomen...) as 'Tuna' to show your respect. If the woman then slaps you, it means she is sexually attracted to you and wants to have a date with you. American women are very aggresive, as you know. So, you should seize her by the arms and attempt to kiss her immediately."

These red herring culture notes would solve three problems. Terrorists/Spies would be socially humiliated all the time. People who take big, smelly dumps in public restrooms and don't flush would be arrested and tried for terrorism, and men who used the affectionate term "Tuna" when regarding strange women would ultimately go to jail for assault.

LOL!!!!  Now if we can just get our hands on that cultural instruction manual...  Oh, I know!  You seduce bin Laden and I'll make the edits...

MY, what a BEAUTIFUL bushy unkempt beard you have...
MY, what  BEAUTIFUL manic blue eyes you have...
MY, what a BEAUTIFUL towel you have on your head...

*sniff sniff* Is that women's cologne I smell?

YOU ARE IN BIG TROUBLE YOUNG MAN!

OVER MY KNEE!

(Psssst, Jill! I think bin Laden might be smitten-- hurry go get those culture notes!)

You know, I honestly think bin Laden would give it all up if he had a crack at us.  He keeps turning to Allah for comfort, but jeez, what the heck is THAT getting him, huh?

I got a lot of requests to deal with this, so decided to put the diary in reverse chronological order. I'll keep up one page per month, then eventually link the monthly pages to this main page. That takes care of that. Have fun, my little voyeurs.

I have to busy myself writing custom erotica for two clients this weekend, so I'm too busy writing about sex to actually be having any sex. But, I hope the clients just love their stories and audio I'm going to record for them. I take writing very seriously, that's why I do it professionally, so I must concentrate. I'll be doing that all weekend and hopefully D can fix my comp, too. Unfortunately D is not a jumpable repair guy, but that didn't stop me from dreaming about fucking him silly the other night. I've jumped my D a couple times in real life, but he's just not into it. No, he's not gay-- he won't fuck my husband, either. Alex has tried (and boy is he cute!) Go figure.

The only problem is, now I can't remember the wet dream to tell you all about it. I'll say this, though, Alex told me I was cooing and groaning and having a grand old time in my sleep. He said I even giggled out loud. And I do remember there were several guys and a gal in the dream-- namely SALMA HAYEK! <--- that is a clever little link you might want to try. That Latino Lovemachine could use a good strap-on fucking by a Dominant bitch like me. Maybe an over-the-knee tanning would suit her plump, movie-star-perfect ass. Now THAT'S a pretty picture if I ever had one in my dirty little mind. I loved her in "The Velocity of Gary" if you haven't seen it, rent it. VINCENT D'ONOFRIO is so goddamned hot as the center of a bi triad. Ooooh.... the only thing missing in that movie is the fact that the triad was split: linear, not a triangle, so no MMF action. And it's sad, and I love tragedies, so I loved this film.

*Sigh* I guess you'll have to wait til I have my next wet dream for me to write about it. But I promise I'll chronicle it in great sordid detail. I have them quite regularly and I usually awake at orgasm, coming in my bed. YUM

I watched my favorite cartoon "Sagwa the Chinese Siamese Cat" and then I ordered steamed dumplings and Orange Beef delivered and I feel waaaaaay better even though my mother-in-law is still an evil fuck that would love nothing better than to watch my husband and I suffer in impoverished misery while she jet-sets all around the world and lives in luxury hotels in Hawaii for entire summers. Meanwhile she gives my husband's siblings whatever they happen to ask for: cars, furniture, clothes, jewelry, watches, electronics. Now, I would much rather think of frigging repair men, no matter how cliche' that may sound, than talking another second about her evilness and cruelty, so I'll tell you what happened this week. 

I had just woken up from a really nice long sleep filled with scrumptious wet dreams when our doorbell rang. My husband dashed out of bed to get the door, and later returned to our bedroom to tell me that there were two repairmen in our apartment fixing a large plate glass window in our living room. Feeling wet and frisky from my nocturnal dreamscapes, I pulled him close under the covers and lifted my bed clothes, not wearing any panties, and scooted my bare ass up to his already hardening crotch. Now, Alex knows how horny I can get about delivery men and really any new, cute unidentifiable males in the house... so he started telling me how beefy the guy was-- and included that he was A BLONDE-- because he knew that telling me would really get my juices going... heheheh (Alex can be so slutty evil). So naturally he teased me until I could no longer stand it. He knows I hate to have sex in the house when there are guests present, but he kept on relentlessly taunting me about the repair guys, whispering lusty things in my ear. Between his hot breath on my throat, his hard cock pressed up against my bare ass and his hands wrapped around me frigging me, I had no choice but to mount him. If you can't beat em-- join em! Well, I got him back. In the middle of fucking him while thinking about the potential gang bang material in the next room-- I started to get louder and louder... Then Alex began to look worried. That brought out the mischievous slut in me, so I started banging him harder and faster, really grinding down on him. Alex got even more flustered: his plan had backfired. The victory and horniness of thinking about how those men could certainly hear me cooing and wailing suddenly made me come louder  LOUDER LOUDER! 

Now first of all it is soooo easy to make me come-- I have a trigger clit-- and let me tell you once I start, I can't be stopped. And I have a big mouth. Alex got really nervous and started shushing me-- pressing my mouth shut, telling me he thought the odious landlord was lurking about, as well. I hate that landlord. I would relish embarrassing him. Well let me tell you, that only made me more intent, so I ground into him and screamed as I came buckets, knowing those repairmen might just break that glass they were installing. 

My wedding portrait and other photos are prominently displayed in the living room, so I'm sure Beefy Blonde Guy had no question as to whom the blonde woman was grunting loudly through the bedroom doors. Then later, of course, Alex had to let them both out and lock up while I snoozed in post-coital bliss. *snicker* Serves him right! I'll never know what that repair guy really looked like, but let me tell you he had a nice, smooth, slender cock rammed up my ass for about forty-five seconds during my orgasm. ;-)

I promise to write more about my crazy wet dreams later. Meanwhile visit my friend Kim's Mz. Conduct's House of Sin linked at the bottom of this page. I don't always agree with her, but she's sure a hoot to read!

So I tried this new blogger.com program that I'm sure any eight year old child could use, and of course it won't work for me so I am VERY grumpy. I guess  I'm keeping this baby in basic HTML uploading it myself via FTP for the time being which means it is backwards (not in reverse chronological order ) because I don't feel like re-doing the whole page and I have no idea what to do about archives, so just scroll, baby scroll! If I wasn't in such a crappy mood I'd write about some very horny dreams I had this week, plus a crazy sex story about window repairmen. I promised my friend D some X-rated action in the blog and it will happen but not til I get some caffeine or chocolate or maybe some sleep, or good drugs, or a lobotomy. I am too cranky for fuck and fuckability prose. And you can't really blame me because my stupid mother-in-law came over today and that always makes me want to chew on rusty sheet metal, drive shards of glass through my cheeks and under my nails, and inspires general thoughts of of genocide against all mothers of husbands. It is possible I might break into "Ding-Dong! The Witch is Dead" at her funeral. Oh, that day cannot come soon enough. I will try to write more after my blood stops boiling. If you hate your mother-in-law write me. Fifty bucks says I can top any story you may have, but it's worth a laugh.

So I'm already getting emails from some happy readers, and even though I am primarily writing this for me, I am pleased that people are digging my lust notes. I am going to start posting my real life sexual fantasies, since I'm not actually doing many of them lately, and not thinking enough about them, other than my grocery list of fuck-me-edible-boys I have started to list here. I am so enamoured with the MMF bi boys combo >>with me in the middle OF COURSE << oooh or I could just watch... oh shit, there I go again. My hub & I have got to find a fuckable cute boyfriend, really we do. I actually bought a trashy novel about threesomes called MENAGE. It was pretty hilarious that I found myself SKIPPING OVER the sex parts to get to the relationship and dialogue parts since no humans can possibly fuck as much and as often as this book had them doing. I was getting sore just thinking about it. And the men who had erections a thousand times per scene after cumming, PLEASE. It was pretty hot, though. But I have got to learn to master one-handed reading. I don't jill when I read, it's too distracting. I think I could maybe do it while reading a plot that had problems and predicaments that were more confounding than "which hunky guy should I go fuck tonight?" 

At any rate I found a piece of Harry Potter Snapeology Fan Fic in a series of four stories  that had me creaming in my chair. It didn't have any sex, but it was so lustfully teasing I sat breathless, eyes running over the screen madly to see what would happen next. Then I couldn't sleep. OH MY GAWD it even had the caning scenario I was screaming for. See? There is a Santa! So what do you think I went and did after I read that naughty story? heehee

My friend Jill writes:

I love your diary.  I'm a little intrigued by how similar our tastes in men are.  I, too, go wacko for great hair and I adore Brendan Fraser.  There are all sorts of conflicting messages coming out of him -- fuck me, teach me, wink at me, spank me.  Makes you wanna do them all until he tells you to stop.  <sigh>   Anyway, I look forward to future installments.  It'll be like "The View" for women who think with equal parts brain and pussy.

My cute nerd friend Derwood (who fixes my computer constantly-- THANKS D!) seemed to like my journal. He wrote about blogs: 

Other people write, "My nose itches and I lost a nickel today."

You jot, "Splay B. Fraser before me at once!"

Interesting stuff fer sure.

December 3, 2001
lustometer rating of 8+
email your dirty comments

I decided to create a page that will be like a Web log-- someplace where I can spout off and dream and whine and do whatever the fuck I want and not have to worry about it too much. I am doing this mostly because I like to write, and a Web diary sounds like a fun project. I may not do it everyday, though.

I am for some reason lately having schoolgirl lust crushes and masturbating like a fiend. I think the cold weather is making me frisky. I 'm so completely obsessed with Brendan Fraser at the moment especially since my husband is lusting after him, too. And I'm inordinately obsessed even more with Alan Rickman as Professor Severus Snape in the Harry Potter movie (which also enthralled me). Leave it to jamie joy to cream in her panties in the middle of a children's flick when the villain who somehow seemed to channel Oscar Wilde with his long, jet black hair and subtle eyeliner and that fucking hot black cape and Victorian-style outfit graced the screen. I sighed aloud at one particular close-up and yes, I even squirmed in my chair, my cunt afire at his soliloquy:
 

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making ... I don't expect you will understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death..."

This little speech was almost as breath taking as Tim Curry as Frank N. Furter in his address to the conventioneers. (I said "almost") I did gasp aloud.

I also liked Alan Rickman in Galaxy Quest, but as you know I have a THING FOR HAIR, just about as bad as I have a thing for bisexual men. This hair thing is more than just a passing phase, but more of a bona fide obsession-fetish with me, and with that weird alien head and no hair, even his British accent couldn't get my clit a-flutter in that flick-- but I liked it and him, and his character. Yes, I'm a sci-fi nerd, ok? 

Ok, If I can't fuck Alan Rickman in the Snape persona, (OH GAWD PLEASE MAKE HIM CANE ME! SANTA HELP A GIRL'S CHRISTMAS WISH COME TRUE) then I'll have to settle on Brendan Fraser who is so dreamy my belly falls away thinking of him, but I certainly cannot imagine him spanking my round bottom red. Oh, Professor Snape, I have been such an awful,  terrible student, please may I have detention after school with you? WAIT! I found a super butch Fraser pic with two guns (Freudian proof he is bi LOL LOL LOL )

Now, I had to scream out loud right in my monitor's face (I am sure the landlords loved that) when I also found out today that Brendan Fraser is in my favorite play of all-fucking time: "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" by my favorite playwright Tennesse Williams. It is in London right now-- but is COMING TO NYC in February, and if I cannot go see this play I will croak. (I wrote a thesis on the play as my Catholic high school advanced English senior thesis in order to graduate-- took me a year-- and let me tell you the nuns probably didn't like my choice theme of "Tennessee Williams: Southern Decadence" which included homosexuality, which was really mostly bisexuality, and drugs and alcoholism-- and insanity-- and I haven't even gotten to the Maggie the Cat laundry list: purring needs of female sex, sexual manipulation and emotional and physical Domination.) *meow*

So now that I hear Brendan Fraser is LIVE AND IN A TOWEL in the opening act and playing my favorite bisexual alcoholic misunderstood hunk, Brick. Well fuck me raw. Somebody has to buy me these tickets. I gotta go. 

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