More Trouble With Meghan

Looks like Meghan played with fire a little, and she got a bit burned. Nothing big, but as you’ll see, there are things you just shouldn’t mess with.

I’ve already mentioned some of the effects of faeweave and the fact that our shop sell items made of that very fabric. I sometimes keep some samples at home. Mostly, those are sent to me for quality control purposes. I usually throw them out, but not this time. In particular, there was this unmarked white thong, which was left half-hidden under a pile of miscellaneous junk on my desk, pretty out of view. Meghan found it on Sunday morning, while I was still sleeping, and left with it. Her plan was to wear it next time we’d meet, and give me a hard time while mock-grilling me about its origins.

This morning, she decided on a whim that they looked pretty comfy, and would go well with these wicked tight black leather pants she hadn’t worn in a while. So, without giving it more thought, she slipped on the thongs, then squeezed herself into the pants, and went to work for a photo shoot (had a job in The Docks).

You, dear readers, KNOW where this is headed, right?

As it were, the thong was very pleasant to wear, but tended to ride up a little bit and bunch up on the front in a way that made her walk a little crooked. By noon, she was constantly looking for hiding spots to plunge her hands into her pants and rearrange her underwear (which always returned to its initial position within minutes). By the end of the afternoon, she was breathing heavily and had to come up with excuses of feeling a bit feverish. To make matters worse, the shoot was running late and they asked her to stay longer — up to 10:00 PM.

I just got off the phone with her. She says she can’t think straight, right now, and she’s on her way to make me pay for “my crimes against feminity.”

Guilty, your Honor.

I just hope the punishment fits the crime. 🙂

Jaycee

P.S.: now that you know what are the potential repercussions of faeweave, perhaps this is a good time to suggest you pay our Store a visit, and leave some underwear lying around next time some chick comes over.

The Trouble With Meghan

Saturday, I got together with Meghan. We had already agreed that it should be “just for coffee,” both acknowledging that it would give us an excuse to bail if the date went bad.

I’ll skip over that particular part. It went great. We got along just fine, and that wasn’t much of a surprise. She’s a professional photographer as well as a makeup artist for TV or movies (when there’s work). She’s American, but she spent several years in Melbourne, Australia — probably where she got some of her no-nonsense attitude — and she speaks three languages (English, Spanish, and some German).

We left the coffee shop after two hours, then went up the mountain for some sightseeing. The view was great (and I’m not JUST talking about the landscape, folks). She pulled out a bottle of hard liquor from her backpack (whiskey or rum, or something like that), and had a few drinks. Then, I suggested we hunt down the couples making out in the bushes to photograph them in the act.

Folks, some people take their lovemaking pretty seriously. At any rate, the guy in the fourth couple got so upset that he gave us chase and even threw rocks at us. He had lousy aim, but we decided not to stick around and raced away.

Meg and I had a good enough time that we decided to spend the night together at my place. We dined. We watched some old movies (Vincent Prince’s “Last Man on Earth” and “Show Boat”). Then I’m not too sure what took over the both of us, but we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I don’t think I’ve gotten this excited about someone in such a long time.

I think we both passed out around 4:30 AM.

When I woke up, around noon, she was gone. There was a thank you note (no details, sorry — it’s PERSONAL) and some reference to “next time.”

Lucky me. 🙂

Jaycee

Open For Business — For REAL Now!

To all those who have tried subscribing in the past (all two of you???), I must offer my most abject apologies.

To be frank (as in, the quality, not as in “Officer Frank”), I’m a bit new at this whole webmastering thing. You’d think that with working in an office that does this for a living, I’d be better at it, right? But the fact is, I’m not doing this with the full knowledge of my colleagues, so I can’t really ask for help on the technical side. So in the end, I’m left fending for myself, and setting some things up sometimes isn’t quite as easy as some folks make it sound like in their plugin description. “Three clicks and you’re done,” they say.

Yeah. At the rate of one relevant click every three days or so.

The good news is that I’ve finally got it working and successfully ran a test myself (something I wasn’t quite able to do in the past). I also have to congratulate Jack K. for being the first one to register. I’m saying this publicly because his faeries (“the girls,” as he calls them) were all cheering at the thought of “being #1” and (at last) returned his wallet (which, at that point, was no longer of any value). I figure, since it’s my fault there were technical difficulties in his subscription, I should tell everyone in public (especially his “roomies”) that he’s NOT to blame, and that they shouldn’t take it out on HIM.

(Note, little ladies, that this is no invitation to take it out on me either. Why don’t you go pester the folks at paypal or s2Member instead?)

And on this note, it’s time for me to catch some Z’s.

(Oh, and yeah, I got together with my new chick-friend yesterday. We did the coffee thing, then a walk on the mountain, and a whole lotta stuff. Her name’s Meghan, and she’s REALLY sharp. We got into some trouble, too, but that’s a story for later.)

Cheers!

Jaycee

Big Nite Out — New Friend

Whoah. Big night out. I just came in — going to work’s going to be a PAIN tomorrow (in a few hours, really), but it was all worth it. I’m still a bit hammered from the night out with Brooke and Barrett, but with no faerie in sight, how could I NOT go out and enjoy myself a little, right?

It’s VERY liberating when you can be yourself, without walking on egg shells, afraid that something is about to go wrong, and you’re going to end up embarassing yourself in public. I don’t think I’ve had this kind of game in years, really. Plus, it helps that B&B are great wingmen. The three of us, we got some killer pickup routines (like the “Fireman’s Carrot” and the “Blues Juice,” to name just a few) that pretty much never fail. It doesn’t matter that I’m 8 years older that most of my targets (or maybe that’s why it works, I dunno).

Anyway, I guess I’m rambling. I’m still a little drunk. Bottom line: I met this very cool chick. Photographer, biker, very hip and all. She’s not shy, not one bit. She walked up to the bar where I was picking up another girl, grabbed me by the shoulder, took a picture of me without asking, signaled for the bartender to give me a drink, and just turned her back to me. The bartender handed me the drink and a napkin with a phone number on it. I called her — she picked up. Standing next to each other, we had one of the wittiest and most fun conversations I’ve had in years. Instant chemistry. It felt like we’d known each other for years.

We had to cut the call when the place closed up. We’re getting together this weekend. I’ll tell you how it went later.

Jaycee