The teen has this annoying habit of nagging the shit out of both her Mother and Father when we tedious “lovebirds” want to talk on the phone, thereby distracting us from the attention we might otherwise be lavishing on her. (My guess is she just doesn’t “get” that we actually enjoy one another’s company). So Mistress and her Slave were not in much touch yesterday.
But rest assured, Mistress, I have rigorously followed the “no touch” rule. And I am missing you here in this lonely bed this morning. Can’t wait to get home and be with you tomorrow evening.
If you are not raptured away by then, of course.
I did download a few photos to share with our readers, including the one above of the executive mansion, all abuzz with a visit from the Israeli Prime Minister, who seems the type who needs even more attention than Sullen Teen #2.
And there’s this local culinary outpost, near where we are staying, one of the few local landmarks on U St. that survived the riots of 1968.
But the only non-lame illustration today comes by way of Donna, our Senior Correspondent.
Good Golly Miss Molly!
You know, I don't think I could even write a joking column about this one. Ouch!
The business end looks somewhat like a hand grenade and it's "petals" look like they could pinch the shit out of...well, I suppose that phrase might be really accurate for The Asslock!
I am hoping the second key is for the wearer to hold onto in case that "truly unique feeling of fullness" becomes the real thing. I don't think of that part of my anatomy as a door that should be locked shut.
Donna
They’re kidding, right? If not. then I hope Tammy over at All Mine remembers to use the spell check in all future entries when he sits in at the blog for Suzanne.
