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Purpillsaurus ROXXX!

Our Pal sez...

Show Me The Magic!!! (Part 2) - February 16, 2007

Tripping my brains out, I managed to rip my gaze from the horrified faces of my three also tripping band mates and I looked at the source of their terror... my armpits.

They were the deepest, darkest purple anyone had ever seen. And the purple spread out almost as far as my tit and up onto my shoulder. It was the same on both sides. The purple death virus was spreading!

As we smoked the joint, sick Panama Red I had stolen from my dad's not so secret stash, we calmed down a bit and tried to wrap our minds around this conundrum. We traced the events of the entire day ending with the moment I had found the purple on me.

"We set up for the gig. Dropped the acid. Drank the rum. Smoked some joints. I changed into my outfit backstage and it definitely wasn't there then. We played. I made out with Hope Stillwell..."

Dude - NOTHING says "date bate" like 45-year-old dude trotting out his glory days of yore stories of ballz-out teenage trippery. It is interesting, and no one has every covered that territory before, and the chicks? Oh they will DIG IT. Especially if you were In a Band.

Rock out with your yoga block out.

Crows' feet.

Notes from Our Pal's Pal's blog:

First of all, let's be clear. The man I'm seeing is nineteen and a half years older than I am, not twenty.

Aw hon - it’s not that you’re 25 and dating a 45-year old. It’s that you’re any age and dating that particular 45-year-old. Didn’t you read the Nader screed on him - “Unsafe At Any Age”?

Thirdly, he doesn't like me just because I'm twenty five. This talk is beginning to hurt my feelings.

I’m thinkin’ there must be some part of you that’s enjoying the kerfuffle and comment that’s an essential and inevitable element to a life lived in the public eye. If you don’t wish to inspire comment and contact, then don’t post the details for public consumption. But besides that, of course he likes you. You're intelligent and pretty, and thus he feels wicked fuggin' righteous about his own attractiveness. That's not to take anything away from you - just that Our Pal's blinded by the shiny objects that hold his reflection.

I've already taken custody of a minor, been orphaned, been around the world, been engaged, been published, been sued, and already have wee crow's feet. I don't have shit but myself to rely on - I am my only, only home and safety net, and I'm good at it - and not even very many thirty-six year olds can say that.

That's good. You'll be fine - after. Him - he couldn't play the violin before he broke his arm. No reason he'll start after the cast comes off. You know - metaphorically speaking and all.


Have some chicken soup and a nap. Life will seem nicer.

By hooker by crook.

From Our Pal’s rant du jour - this time decrying Rebecca Traister’s eeeeevil interview tactics.

(And while we’re at it, dude - you’re ostensibly a filmmaker/actor/writer, no? Never encountered one of them thar “journalists”? You have? Then you don’t get to play dumb. You may be tagged with many a term, but I’d never go with that one.)

I clarified to Beckster that 8 visits to whores in 40 years of sexual activity was the opposite of "habit" and actually constituted a "rare" behavior pattern.

He’s 45, talking about “40 years of sexual activity”. Perhaps might we assume that the bulk of said pro sessions weren’t brokered between the ages of 5 and, oh, say, 17? That’d leave 28 years at the outside. May seem like a minor difference, but that changes the frequency from the implied one pro-schtupp every 5 years to one every 3.5 years. Add in the Domme visits (10) and Special massages (10), and that’s - well lookee here! 28 sex workers in 28 (or fewer) years. Once (or slightly more) a year. I have a birthday once a year. Having a birthday once a year isn’t rare. In fact, it’s purty darned regular. In terms of the general population, that’s pretty irregular. As a mostly-retired Pro-Domme, I’d certainly consider someone who sessioned with me once a year as a “regular”.

I’m not judging, and it’s certainly not as if I have any particular moral high ground. I’m just saying you can’t have it both ways.

(Unless you’re willing to pay the extra $40.)

Craig-ing him on.

Might we, just for a moment, divert our attention from Our Pal to another high-profile denizen of the NYC dating scene? The gent below has been posting the same crop of ads en masse since...well, I've no idea, really. For a month or two before I met my husband in early 2005, I stuck my toe into the murky waters of Craigslist's M4W section. Said digit was swiftly withdrawn and boiled, but I noticed that one extremely avid gent was posting the same crop of ads overandoverandoverandover, sometimes a dozen or more entries a day. Goodness knows how long he's been doing it, but pop on over there and search for the term "forties" and there he be.

One could assume from the frequency and longevity of his efforts that it's either working really, really well for him, or he's still searching quite fervently for his honeyschnookumspie. Can anyone offer any insight/anecdotes/suggestions?

Danke schoen.

Feb- 2 Only YOU can save me from. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .JDATE!!!

Feb- 2 SEEKING A GROWN-UP (which on this site seems to be asking a lot)

Feb- 2 With Strings Attached. The Better to Play Love's Sweet Music.

Feb- 1 ONCE YOU GO JEW, YOU'LL NEVER FEEL BLUE!

Feb- 1 YOU HAVE A DATE WITH DESTINY! Too bad Destiny's such a lousy kisser!

Feb- 1 A Jewish Guy seeking a Jewish woman. Is that so wrong?

Feb- 1 THIS POST GUARANTEED PERV FREE

Feb- 1 HOOKUP WITHOUT GETTING SHOOK UP! (THE ONLY SURPISES SHOULD BE PLEASANT!)

Feb- 1 ONCE YOU CLICK, WE'LL CLICK! (CONGRATS! YOU FOUND ME!)

Jan-31 1 4 1 2 1 (NOT A ZIP CODE. READ WITH CARE.)

Jan-31 "Yes, I want to date on Craig's List forever." Say it aint so!

Jan-31 CATCH OF THE DAY! (HOOK, SINKER, NO LINE!)

Jan-31 LET'S MAKE OUR FIRST CRAIGSLIST DATE OUR LAST CRAIGSLIST DATE!

Jan-31 IS "NICE" NOT SO NICE?

Jan-31 IS PASSION OUT OF FASHION?

Jan-31 WHY SHIVER WHEN YOU CAN QUIVER?

Jan-31 LET'S HAVE A SUN!

Jan-31 YOU'RE TOO GOOD FOR THIS!

Liza with a wheeee!

Am I the only person in the universe who didn't know that Our Pal's Über-Ex "Liza" (she of the ring-spurning and tremendous sense) went on to marry and procreate with Conan O'Brien?


Pfffwwwaaaaahhhh!

(Just had to share.)

Subjectively speaking.

A snippet from Our Pal's account of his first Pro Domme session:

Whether by sitting in front of an alter meditating or being beaten and ass raped by a hot dirty blonde... anyway you can get there.

I looked up at her as she toweled off her hands above me. "You wanna go to dinner?"

"I have a girlfriend."

"You don't like boys?"

"I like them fine."

"You like me."

"You keep saying I do."

"You keep smiling at me like you do."

"You were fun to play with." And with that and a sly smile, she left the bathroom.

She was back in Madison Avenue Advertising, waiting politely for me to open the front door, like after regular old first date. The only difference being, I didn't need to walk her down stairs and put her in a cab.

Dollface - lemme 'splain something to you. As a mostly-retired Pro Domme, I can say with a rock-hard certainty that NO, despite her polite deameanor and kindly smile, the Domme did not FEEL anything for you. If given the choice between dinner with you and Pap smear, we'd be begging our GYN to slather up the speculum.

While we may develop personal friendships with regular clients after an extended period of time, it is never after a first session, and always of our own choosing. We don't LIKE you. You may scratch our itch or pay our bills, but the moment after your usefulness has been wrung from you, and we have done our aftercare, we want our lives back, and you mayn't have any more. CERTAINLY not outside the dungeon walls.

You are not a date. You are a job. If it ever is to be more, it's OUR decision, and don't you dare ever ask. You'll only get contempt or pity.