I had a delightful time with my best-friend O. who came in from out of town. She is the Blonde to my Brunette, a fellow Tallsie, my partner in crime--when we get together there is bound to be trouble and jealous girlfriends.
It was only her second time in LA and it was uncharacteristically hotter than balls, so we eat lots of ice cream and go to the beach. I finally get to try the strange flavors of Scoops like Jim Beam and vanilla; cardamom and goat cheese and lavender. We admire the many boys of bicycles riding about the street.
She was quite amused at my newest slave who did his best to please us by cleaning and taking care of the litter box.
We go out to a bar and an extremely annoying guy starts talking to us. I'm hoping this drunk slovenly bastard will go away and then he asks me what I do so I tell him I'm a Dominatrix. He immediately gets front and center (interesting how that happens), asking me questions about it, saying he could offer me a spot on his show in exchange for spanking him for an hour. Really? O. jumps in and acts like my agent, asking how many hits it gets etc., but obviously this would boost his ratings more than mine and why would I want to spank you on a internet radio show? This is such a strange thing about LA, it is so about what I can do for you and what you can do for me. I have yet to have someone offer me anything worth my time.
O. has taken some BDSM/fetish photos for me before and I'm hoping we could shoot together again. She also did this wonderful animated illustration of one of my photos. She is so wonderfully gifted, but her time was too short for this trip and it was too blasted hot to do a photo shoot. Instead, she took lots of pictures of my cat and my toys. Cats love BDSM toys. It's true.
After grabbing some sushi, we walk down the end of the pier in Venice. There are lots of people fishing at night. A man stops, stares and shouts after us, Whoa! Are you two ladies Brazilian?
(*David Boreanaz)
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