... that this wee bloggage does not reflect my true heart-the-size-of-a-shrivelled-blackened-pea personality.
But I'll have you know I had several people convinced I was starting a new life in Sydney as a dominatrix not all that terribly long ago. Admittedly, the convinced ones were pasty, wimpy, bleeding heart, tenants'-welfare advocates but still, they thought it was possible!
Sunday, February 15
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8 comments:
yes, but they don't know you.
Now then -I had to go to the heart of stone post, to get up to date. I then mis-read pantry moths for panty moths and coughed up a lungful of coffee! See, you'd be really be in trouble if my last coughing die-ing post was blaming you for being so cold hearted for killing panty-moths.
You explain that to Peter ;o) xx
I forgot to tell you, bay leaves are good against panty moths, too.
Panty moths, haw haw haw! And hard-hearted Morgan, haw haw haw!
Hmm, we call 'em knicker moths round these parts, and they are beaten to within inches of their lives :)
I'm sorry, but no one seems to have stated the obvious: that being a dominatrix could just be a 9-5 sort of job. It doesn't mean that a dominatrix can't have a heart of gold and still discipline folks who ask for it and pay for the service.
While I'll bet there are even some folks who hold down important jobs in government bureaucracies, wear power suits and run big meetings who have hearts of gold!
;o)
- Lee
Again, who are you kidding with the heart of stone thing, woman? You couldn't be a Ping and Small mom if you really did have a heart of stone.
But E, I'm their cruel overlord who beats them and never ever feeds them! Just ask them ;)
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