Today’s misuse of a cosmetic product.

Today’s misuse of a cosmetic product.

This wonderful product is called Sexy Mother Pucker Lip Plump. It is absolutely brilliant at doing just what it says on the box. Plumping your lips to extremes. Now I already have full lovely lips, but having seen the product in the store, couldn’t resist buying it due to the name. So when ever I want those just kissed lips look. I pop this stuff on.

Where the misuse comes in. Client of mine is in to figging, and since acquiring the ginger root on short notice was out of the question, I instead carved a carrot in the appropriate shape, smeared it with Sexy Mother Pucker, and away I went.

He was over the moon, and I now carry 2 tubes of this wonderful product, it seems it has uses at both ends.

As you were.

The World Cup, Toys, and Cafes

The World Cup, Toys, and Cafes

Ok, where to start? The long and he short of it is, I went shopping and ended up watching the WC.

It originally wasn’t my intention to get drawn into the whole WC madness, I pride myself on being and individual with a strong resistance to the herd mentality. That is until I need a drink, went into a small cafe, and realized it was bedecked in orange with the Dutch flag flying outside, realization dawned too late it was WC Monday! Holland were playing Denmark.

Oh shit! Quietly leave, and face hordes of drunk Nederlanders, or stay and watch the game? Think quick V! My stomach made the decision for me, as a wonderful tuna salad sandwich, destined for someone else, passed in front of my nose my hungry tummy gave a rather unladylike growl, and that was it. I tucked my Mr. B’s bag of goodies between my legs, which contained: a 10mm bamboo cane; G5 Russian gas mask with canister; amyl nitrite; 15m rope; a paddle with tacks; a box of black latex gloves, and ordered.

Now for those of you familiar with my love and adoration for DOM, will know of what I speak when I mention Mr. B’s. For those of you who do not, let me just say it is one of my favorite shops on the Warmostraat, a street in Amsterdam’s famous Redlight district. It has toys galore, whips, floggers, butt plugs ranging in size ‘oh may’ to ‘OH MY!’ Lovely stuff, it makes a Dom all warm and fuzzy with anticipation of the tortures she can inflect on her willing sub. 

So there I am sitting in this cafe with a lovely latte, a half a pint of Strongbow, and a joint in front of me. Hey I am in Amsterdam, some people carry cigarets, I carry joints. Funnily you can smoke a joint in a bar, but not a cigarette. Go figure, the Dutch have some wonderful rules for things. The a thought strikes me,“Oh Fuck, Fuckity Fuck, fuck, fuck! What the hell do I do now? I haven’t a clue who half the people on the pitch are? I did recognize the Dutch, thankfully they were wearing orange.”

As the game got into the swing of things, I borrowed the face paint, and somehow it ended up being rubbed on the top of my left breast. Joints and Strongbow are to blame.

All and all it was a cracking good day, Holland won, Cameroon lost, and Italy tied. But by the time I got to this game, I couldn’t have cared less.