Why Did I Even Bother?

Why Did I Even Bother?

I started dating(I lasted a few weeks), why the hell did I do that? What a disaster! My gf were giving me lessons how to behave. Some of the things I was informed to do and not do.

1. Don’t talk too much about myself, ask questions about the man, and make him feel important!

Seriously? Is the average male this insecure? Wait, this sounds like work, why would I want to engage and encourage this foolishness for free?

2. Don’t dress up too much, they will think you are high maintenance.

WTF!? Really! News flash! I am fucking high maintenance! Yes, I am and you know what else, I am really good with this. If he wants a blow up doll, he should go get one.

3. If you do have a BF, make him feel useful around he house.

Jesus Christ almighty, how the hell do women tolerate having men around? They are worse than children.

Oh, my god! How the hell do civvie women go on dates? Please tell me, what are your secrets? I can’t manage to feint interest for longer than 20 mins. The conversation about their non existent lives, them trying to impress me with what they think is their prowess!? Jesus, or the ones who can’t seem to manage to match their clothing! Talk about useless! Or are my standards that high!? Surely not?

Then there was this point when I realised I had to pretend to enjoy bad sex for fucking FREE! That was as Malcolm Gladwell said, the tipping point. Oh hell no! I am not going to shag for free, badly! So I axed that budding relationship and am once again, single, happy, and have the big bed all to myself. Am I selfish? Yes I am! And as well as being high maintenance, I am so ok with this.

Some Universal Truths About Hoing

Some Universal Truths About Hoing

 1. The minute you decide to de-ho, after sitting around looking glamorous all day and doing sweet FA, the phone will ring just as you are removing the last vestiges of make up.

2. After sitting around all day doing nothing, and finally you get a booking, during the time you are busy, you will have missed 5 phone calls all from regs, all looking to book with in the next hour. Men fuck in clusters.

3. The minute you decide to go out to do errands, no matter what time of the day, you will get a call from someone wanting to come NOW!

4. The client that pays you thousands, will take you to dinner, treat you nice, buy you pressies, asks permission to shag you once and tips. The one who books for he hour, and has to save for that hour, will shag you senseless for 58 mins, to get his money’s worth.

5. Clients will get the hump if you are running 5 mins late, but can’t seem to get why you are pissed when they book, confirm, and rock up 45mins late!

6. Guys with the he smallest dicks, always think it is bigger than it really is, and guys with big ones seem to think they are average.

7. The cutest hottest guy will come in for just a blow-job, massage, no sex!

8. The day you have the worst gas, will be the day everyone want to stick their finger, toy, dick, or tongue up your ass.

9. The day you are bleeding like a crime scene will be the day you get every large dicked client who books and stays for the full hour.

10. The day you are horny as hell, you will get every 80 yo geriatric travelling in from miles around.

11. Doesn’t matter the culture, the race, or the language. Men do not read profiles! They just don’t.



Life is simple, but as humans we need to complicate things. And men make the mistake of thinking about shit and fucking up what could be a brilliant encounter.

Example, the client who couldn’t follow instructions, got lost, wondered about the place, then after about 20 phone calls, several verbal dressing downs, lots of huffing puffing and getting lost again, he finally showed up!

Upon which I discovered he was actually a lovely gentleman, delightfully quirky, funny, and had forgotten his hearing aide at home, so he wasn’t really hearing sweet fuck all of what I was saying to him! I could only look at him is utter shock and ask the obvious questions. And thank my lucky stars that he hadn’t actually heard most of what I had said, as I was rather abrasive to say the least. Silver linings and all.

Designer Pussy

Designer Pussy

Apparently I have one. I always though I just had a pussy, well it seems due to the bits all being neatly tucked in, mine is the go to for those seeking designer lips. Somebody shoot me!

Seriously, gentlemen! If you are looking at a woman when her legs are spread in front of you and all you can think about is the labia minora is longer that the labia majora, you my friend are not focusing on the right thing. Or you are getting way too much pussy! Trust me when my man is down there, he had better be attending to the task at hand, not bloody comparing a catalogue of cuntflaps! And if he is, I had better not find out!

You fools need to be more appreciative when you are at the altar. Designer pussy my ass!

Domination by Numbers

Domination by Numbers

There seems to be some confusion. Let me explain. I am a professional Dominatrix, surprise! And as such, I do take gleeful delight in doing the most horrific things to clients for extortionate amounts of money. All with their consent of course. At the end of the day it is a game for them, and free therapy for me. Fuck anger management courses, kicking the holy shit out of some snivelling cretin works wonders for me. I do have to say I delight in inflicting unspeakable punishments on my subs. I have a dark side and I am good with it.

But of late there seems to be some confusion developing; along the lines of which, I have subs expecting to have sex with me! WTF! Am I to understand, I am to whip you, spit on you, pee on you, tie you up and basically trample all over you like a mattress, and then have sex with you? Only in fucking Ireland can you get this maggoty amalgamation of co-joined services.

I mean sweet Jesus, at the best of times, I need to mentally pull of some serious acrobatics to muster up the fake delight I need to get through a normal booking, then to have to switch mind sets mid lash is more mental acrobatics than I am willing to muster. That and the fuckers are all expecting this for the same rate as a GFE! Or my favourite is can they have half hour GFE, and half hour DOM! Do I look stupid the you?

This stupidness is a result of the recession. And the bargain hunting mindset, as in they want as much for the paltry pittance they can just afford. So, people who normally wouldn’t even give a Dom session a though are now wanting the whole singing and dancing light show, to feel they have gotten their money’s worth! Wrong female! What have I done, I have packed away my dom equipment and can’t be asked! Seriously, please! My advice now when some idiot has the nerve to broach the subject is this: Go home and get humiliated for free, I am sure you wife takes equally as much delight as I do in telling you what a useless cunt you are.

How the fuck?

How the fuck?

How the f*** did he sneak in under my defences? I mean seriously, was it those big, brown, fluttery eyelashes accenting lovely, warm, sweet, green eyes? No, not those.

Was it those arms like pythons that so masterfully wrapped themselves around me, or was it the excellent oral technique? Hole in murther fucking one! Leaving me panting on the bed in a puddle of my own juices, wondering who the hell was making all that damn racket, oh yeah that was me!

He is absolutely adorably cute, a lovely little bonbon. Kinda of like a delicious naughty stolen treat. Yummy, sex, sweet kisses, and touches. How the hell do I account for the f***ing withdrawals I am going through? Jesus, it has been a long time, since I have been properly loved up.

I am like a junkie needing a hit. Bad! It is messing with my head in a majorly bad way. I am wearing out my playlist of sad and soppy songs. How the hell did I, me, yes moi end up here? Need to get a grip on self and snap to hell out of this silliness. No more texts, and I will just have to endure. Horrible. I hate feeling like this. Aaaaarrrrrggggggg!

I Dont Really See The Point

I Dont Really See The Point

I know I may come off as a misangonist, but I don’t really hate men, I am more alone the lines of I just don’t see the point of them. I tend to find they clutter up my well organised space. Are needlessly in the way, and when not engaged in some inane activity, hopelessly inept and just bloody annoying. From hogging the tv remote to leaving the toilet seat up, men are pointless.

Ok maybe it is just the brilliant specimens of manhood I see gracing my doors, grown men who can’t follow simple directions, wear clothing their mothers still buy for them, are still living at home, and if asked when last showered, usually answer with, “ahhhhh?” This could cloud a girls ability to shift through what passes for the pinnacle in men today.

I cant blame my inability to tolerate men on my work, I was this way long before I started working as an escort. But since working as an escort, it has firmed up my already lingering suspicions as to why we women tolerate having them around. And I secretly wonder if other women are like me in this regard?

The roles of women have changed some what drastically in the last century, I think wars have contributed to women realising that we really don’t need men as much as we thought. In addition to that, it certainly culled the male population. Not necessarily a bad thing. We really don’t want too many of them running about unchecked. China is beginning to notice this, since they sold off put up for adoption a large percentage of their female children. There are now some villages that are practically without females of marrying age, and this has led to gangs of young men going about raping girls from neighbouring villages. Delightful! So culling the population every once and a while has its benefits. I am not referring to killing those off that are already here, boys by default are quite careless and will generally end up doing themselves an injury or die off young, so the balance is kept naturally.

Really, what purpose do they serve? To take out the trash, can do it my self. Usually better, faster and on time so it doesn’t pile up until the following week. Hang up curtains, nope. I prefer to hire a professional, so if they fuck it up I can yell at them with impunity. Sorry, I lost respect and affection for the last man in my life who hung my curtains crooked. And he should be grateful he wasn’t found at the side of the road wrapped in said curtains! Every time I looked at them, my blood would boil!

About the only thing I can see they are good for is a lovely pair of shoulders to squeeze when I get bored with pleasuring myself with my vibrator. Oh, well I suppose that is something.