I usually don’t do “weekends”. If you ever ask Me how was my weekend, the answer probably will be ” Like any other day”. Weekends are for working people, weekends are something to look forward to after you come back home from your slave job to jerk off, watch a movie and drink your misery away. Weekends are your escape for that limited 48 hours out of the week, but if you ask Me, I really don’t give a shit about it. I don’t have to, I can have my weekend anytime, whenever I want, as long as I want for a very simple reason: you already slave for Me, so that I can enjoy myself, and I do. This weekend was top notch entertainment for Me.
Some of you did an exceptional job being good puppets and visiting both of my fetish clip stores. It’s kinda fun observing how curiosity leads to addiction; how trying out one clip leads to a growing need and addiction for more. It is especially nice to see some of the loyal bitches to be coming back for every single update, no matter how often or how rare they are, just kinda quietly sneaking around and not having the guts to speak to Me personally, yet totally helpless to resist to see/hear more. Thus, the past few days were good, as some of you have been jerking off the wallets to their pathetic state of the bliss of emotional pain and servitude. Good job boys.
Meanwhile… I decided to take the “weekend” time off to visit a local poker room. I haven’t been in the mood to play lately, but then kinda missed it, figured that this would be a good time to try out my luck as the “weekends’ bring in more hard working slave-job people who don’t really have time and/or need to perfect their game but come to feed their addiction, kinda like you… I was right. Saturday turned out to be quite a profitable night, was up about 500 in the end, not awfully much, but I’ll take being up any day over being down. Profits aside, I tend to attract weird and odd situations:
Johnny the Waitress.
If men had tits they would be whores. For the most part they are just jealous. As it takes forever to get a drink at that place, people naturally bitch about it. One of guys mentioned that waitresses make about $500 a shift carrying drinks around. Johnny, a sweet character from Alabama, about 50 years old, bald and skinny, with his jaw dislocated to the left and with a classic southern accent overhears it and screams, “Hiell, I wud be carrying them drinks for $500 an hour too, I would wear the dress, high heels and make up.” He was pointed out to that it’s not $500 an hour, but per shift, and that probably no one would leave him any tips. Unfortunately I have very vivid imagination, and mental image of Johnny the Waitress will stay in my mind now forever. I also remembered every single “Johnny the Waitress” I have seen on cam and sadly was disappointed I was not getting paid for it this time, but was entertained to tears nonetheless.
I am used to getting plenty of attention from men. It’s not something that will surprise me or make me feel special, but, it is more of a rare occasion to have women flirt openly with me. I do appreciate compliments from women more as they are thinking less with hormones but actually are able to appreciate beauty for beauty. I have no idea how that happened but this lady starts calling me a Russian Princess, so why not roll with it? The name sticks for the rest of the night. She mentions something about reading people for a living, so naturally I ask her what does she do. She answers, I’m a Jewish Princess. I’m pretty sure that place is already taken, but didn’t want to break it up to her. Well, guess the table was blessed with presence of such royalty at once.
Since I was up in winnings on Saturday I decided to come back the next night for some more fun. The play was pretty slow, not much happening. The dude on my left was some middle aged, gold chain wearing, flamboyantly dressed Afghani and he was just yapping yapping, I couldn’t understand much and wasn’t very interested either. He was speaking quietly, kinda to himself and with a thick middle eastern accent that I was kinda nodding to him just kinda to be nice and to have him keep showing me his cards and fold to me when I needed to. The downside was high annoyance as he wouldn’t shut up. It got worse after I told him I was Russian and unfortunately he spoke some of it, badly. He tried to sing Russian pop songs, badly, making compliments in Russian, badly…At this point I already wanted to ball gag and smack him around. After a few drinks he asks me ” Dont you want to know what I do?” Naturally I don’t give a shit so just kinda shrug, but he didn’t really need the confirmation that I wanna know. ” I play with body” – “Huh? How do you do that?” “Well, you know” and then goes a long sales pitch. Umm what is a girl to do? I was running all episodes of the “Hung” in my head, picking on all the points of the oddness of the situation and quietly cracking myself up. The Afgani gigalo unfortunately was left without business for the night and without most of his stack.
In the end, was quite a productive weekend… how was yours?