TastyTrixie.com

Archive for the ‘pets’ Category

Just a quick post with pictures of our dog, Nic0, in the snow this morning, and a heads-up that we have a chat session scheduled with members tonight at 7 pm (Pacific; 10 pm Eastern) in our members-only chatroom.

Playing with her Dora ball:

Delia did have a show scheduled tonight (and last night) but both had to be canceled due to my cycle’s unpredictability/us still trying to get pregnant, so she wanted to do a members-only chat session instead (which I am looking forward to).

The top things on my agenda for today are getting some exercise, then getting pretty and shooting some photos for members. I would also dearly love to do some more blogging, but I don’t know if there will be time for that. Getting ready and doing our shoots could take up the majority of the day.

STAGE NAMES & TIDBITS

Yesterday I accidentally spoke my legal name (first AND last) aloud over our spycams when I forgot to turn the audio off before making a phone call. Fittingly, the phone call was to our cable company in hopes of fattening our internet pipe so that we can broadcast MORE spycams, faster (so people can overhear even more of the goings-on in our house).

FYI: though I’m not super-uptight about a few voyeurs knowing my legal names, it’s not an invitation for people who know me as Trixie to address me as anything other than Trixie (or “Trix” OR even “stupid ugly cunthole” – even that would be preferable to people puncturing my webwhore bubble by assuming a level of familiarity I’ve not expressly solicited). There are actually quite a few members, past and present, who know my “real” name, and they’ve done a great job of earning my trust by respecting that Trixie is my chosen name for my webwhore-related interactions.

Having said that, there *have* been a couple of times where people used my birth name online to put me in an uncomfortable place trying to show me that they knew something they weren’t supposed to. It was like they wanted me to know I couldn’t get away with “fooling” them. Also, there have been people who are hell-bent on knowing my “real” name, repeatedly trying to drag it out of me; anyone who seems to think he NEEDS to know my birth name is someone I don’t want to have that information. For one thing, “Trixie” is just as real a name to me as the one my parents gave me because I gave mySELF this name. I really detest anyone who acts like the name I gave myself is inherently fake or phony. Plus, someone who doggedly refuses to acknowledge the importance of having a stage name just for privacy’s sake in this industry is someone I don’t want to deal with — they are the people who give whores good reason to protect their identities and keep them separate from their family lives.

Someone trying to convince me to tell him my real name once tried to appeal to my sense of fairness by saying, “but if I join your site, then you’ll know *MY* name and personal information so I should know yours, too!” Wow — and by his logic, when he joins my site and gets to see and hear inside MY HOME, it would only be fair for me to see and hear inside HIS home. Using his rationale I would apparently be justified in using the name and address associated with his credit card to go to his house and spy on him and his family and maybe google his name to find out where he works since, after all, he gets to spy on ME while I am working, right?

Of course not. That way of thinking is ALL WRONG. Anyway, the product I sell isn’t “fairness” — it’s FANTASY. Sure, I pride myself on offering a more authentic and less fictionalized version of the porn fantasy, but I don’t enter into a reciprocal relationship with my customers. It’s not like, “you show me your credit card, I’ll show you mine.” No, it’s an exchange and I set the terms. If private information like my birth name were to be for sale, I would SELL it as such. For like, five million dollars since it would pretty much be a one-time deal because anyone who thinks that information is too juicy for me to deserve to keep it under wraps would probably post it all over the internet anyway and I wouldn’t be able to sell that information again. And because I would want to make the point that YES, I DO think my private information is worth more than yours, and if you’re hell bent on stalking me to get more out of me than I offer professionally, you owe me the kind of money that will afford bodyguards, a nice home security system and a really lovely arsenal.

It’s not that I don’t understand being curious and it’s not that I think that kind of curiosity is pathologically dangerous — it’s not the curiosity that bothers me, it’s the disrespect shown in trying to SATISFY that curiosity. In the example of the guy who thought that since I could look up his real name in my system that he should get to know mine, it’s like he was trying to take me down a peg by getting me to say something like, “gosh, you’re right! What, do I think I’m *better* than you? No, I’m just an untrustworthy whore trying to exploit you with my fake identity and shouldn’t be trusted with your personal information without handing over an even more literal pound of flesh than the ones on display in my members-area. Who do I think I am, using my fraudulent porn persona to extract your personal information? Before you waste twenty dollars to see my life’s work since 2002 I need to make sure we’re even-Steven and I’ve been properly subjugated by your superior will.” These guys with their sense of entitlement scare me, but not enough that I won’t confirm their worst nightmare: YES, I NOT ONLY *THINK* I AM BETTER THAN YOU, I *KNOW* THAT I AM BETTER THAN YOU. How do I know? By your horribly ill-mannered invasiveness, that’s how I know. Oh, and I ALSO KNOW THAT THE VAST MAJORITY OF MY CUSTOMERS ARE BETTER THAN YOU, TOO, BECAUSE THEY DON’T PESTER ME IN THIS SOCIALLY RETARDED MANNER AND EVEN IF THEY DO KNOW SOME OF MY “SECRETS” THEY DON’T TRY TO RUB MY NOSE IN IT.

T I D B I T S

*Good news: Nico (our dog) doesn’t have a tumor; she had weed seeds that burrowed into her skin and became infected and swollen. Apparently this is a fairly common thing that happens to outside-dogs in the summer. The vet extracted the little buggers and prescribed some antibiotics, so all is well!

*Good news: I recently lost a few pounds. Bad news: I think I lost them off of my boobs. I guess that’s what happens when you go off the pill.

*We bought a new printer last week and I still haven’t had a chance to figure out where to put it or even just unpack it and smell it’s new-machine smell. It’s a photo printer, so maybe now we’ll be able to sell 8×10’s (there seems to be a niche demand for autographed 8×10’s of webwhores, fyi).

BONNIE GAVE ME SECOND LIFE

I woke up this morning to an email with an interview request from Bonnie Ruberg of The Village Voice. We’re going to talk tomorrow on the phone, and in the meantime I thought I should browse around and get to know a wee bit more about her.

After reading this lovely newbie guide to getting a sexy Second Life and her woeful tale of having an ugly avatar, I decided to give it a brief trial. The software is downloading now. My name is Trixie Offcourse. If I become addicted I’ll no doubt create an alternate male persona who will be a horrid cad with a very large swollen member he tries to stick into everything.

*****

We had sex this morning. I’ll try to make a post about that over on the FertileTrixie blog.

*****

Our dog has another tumor. Delia just spotted it today and our vet has no openings until tomorrow so we’re just trying to keep her from worrying it too much; she’s already got a couple of spots of bloody pus where she may have a couple little punctures. We hope it’s just some benign old-dog fatty-tumour thing they’ll be able to remove easily.

*****

My sister, brother-in-law, and nephew are spending the night tonight before they go off on a hike. Voyeurs: some of our cams may be down or obscured or without audio during that time, for example in our bedroom if we decide to all climb into bed so we can introduce them to the splendid show, Ice Road Truckers. I didn’t know the TV people could possibly come up with another “documentary” featuring people who’d feel even more familiar to me than the guys on The Deadliest Catch, but here they’ve done it! In case you didn’t know, my stepdad was a long-haul truck driver.

MORE MOON

Taken on Sunday night, around midnight:

*****

We half-planned to do a nudie shoot in the moonlight last night, but scrapped that in favor of cuddling and going to sleep much earlier than we would have if we’d have trekked somewhere to shoot. Also, I wanted to have as much energy as possible for my planned-at-the-last-minute trip to Seattle today to help celebrate my sister’s birthday. Delia’s not coming with me since Cedar and I are going to spend the majority of our day at a spa. Not just any spa, either; I intend to use all of their hot rooms and hot pools to the full extent of their heat-giving capacities before I get pregnant since I won’t be allowed to steam or sauna or hot-tub it once I’m “with child” (or rapidly dividing cells or whatever).

Anyway, I think I’m going to try to set aside as many days surrounding the full moon next month as possible for shooting, and try not to have any distractions heaped up on those days. Even with it being July, the wind can be biting here in the middle of the night so if we ARE going to get some nude or partially nude moonlight sets, we only have a couple of months to do it without it being too cold to be fun. Also, we don’t really know what we’re doing in terms of taking the pictures and having them actually turn out, so I can’t really count on being able to use any of the pictures anyway.

I’ll be back home either tonight (late) or (probably) tomorrow. Must get as much squishy nephew cuddling as possible. Maybe being around the cutest one-year-old in the whole wide world will boost my fertility.

SAME TIME, DIFFERENT DAY

Tonight I decided to follow-up this post by taking more pictures at the same time of night (about nine) in the same place (our backyard). It started sprinkling as I shot these:

You can tell by the way the trees lean that we live in a windy place:

More wind:

More clouds:

More dog:

She probably wishes I’d brush her instead of taking her picture. It’s July, after all, and she’s shedding a lot.

*****

I woke up this morning with a foul PMS temper and went to the gym with a headache, but felt better afterwards. I even had a splendid two-orgasm show. Following that, I got some crap at McDonald’s, some Little Schoolboy cookies, and a celebrity gossip magazine. I felt guilty about crawling into bed to enjoy those things, and even guiltier about extending my afternoon laze-around junkfood fest for what seemed like a really long time. I stopped feeling guilty, though, when I looked at my Twitter and realized I AM NOT A LAZY ASS. It’s perfectly normal and okay for a person to relax and eat crap on a Friday afternoon for a few hours.

After I came to that realization I actually felt invigorated, happy, and focused (might have been the caffeine in the extra-dark chocolate on the Little Schoolboys). Since then I’ve gotten a lot of housework and photo editing done. I haven’t responded to any email that’s been stacking up, but whatever.

It’s almost midnight, but I’m still looking forward to making some dinner.

WET BREATH

I stepped outside tonight, just after eight nine, to a perfect July fog. The air was warm and damp, like it had healing powers better than anything in an asthmatic’s nebulizer.

It’s been steamy, even with rain the past two nights. For the past week or two we’ve slept with the window cracked and a fan sucking in cool air from outside, and, speaking of asthma, all sorts of allergens. I’ve been sneezing a lot more than usual.

The dog and I bring in sharp little weed seeds that cling to my pants and her fur. She rubs against the side of our bed and deposits them on the flannel sheets. I think I should spend tomorrow’s twilight on the deck, slowly pulling seeds off of my pant legs. One by one. Extracting their barbs from my fuzzy socks, being nebulized.

It’s funny to me, taking pictures. These don’t look like tonight. They certainly don’t SMELL like tonight. They’re one good thing, and being there was another; I’m not sure if I look at these ten years from now if I’ll remember the truth of the air’s density and the way the skin on my face and hands was breathing for me.

You know how much I love being inside, in bed or in front of a glowing monitor. Maybe because I do spend so much time indoors it’s easy for me to be lured away by damp layers of fog and dense natural light. I feel like I could be happier with less trying, wading in waves of dying July weeds.

Then again, I love coming back inside and savoring the memory of it, trying to preserve it because I always need help remembering how to breathe, not trying so hard.

*****

Tomorrow we’re going to be gone during the day – therapy, you know. I think I’ll post my update tomorrow instead of tonight. For one thing, I had my heart set on shooting a “muffin top” gallery. I’d never heard of the term until we saw that commercial for I don’t know what, and I thought it was so cute (and have always thought these “muffin tops” are cute regardless of what other people seem to think about the flesh spillage) that I wanted to take pictures of my own.

It turns out I don’t have a fluffy muffin top.

Except in the front — I’m very bakery in the front but on the sides and in the back? There’s no good overflow, which is where I wanted it to be. SO sad. Using the elliptical machine with the arm-thingies seems to have pared down my sides and backphat so most of what I’m left with is concentrated exactly in my paunchy gut. I might have realized sooner I’m not a muffin top girl, but I hardly ever wear my jeans because they’re uncomfortable BECAUSE my gut is so disproportionately distended. Whatever. Better luck with the next idea.

I LOVE LONG SOCKS!

I’m in love with long socks!

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I thought it important I post some eye candy to mitigate the bitch damage done in my recent entries. I’m making a concerted effort not to be an asshole today, and so far nothing has tested my patience so it’s been pleasant. I spent my morning doing a little work, chatting with members and vacuuming (a meditative salve for the stressed-out spirit), then my afternoon was spent lunching (sushi roll and seaweed salad!) exercising (Dance Dance Revolution!), and showering. Tucker made a lovely steak dinner then we went to the store for snacks where we picked up a small bouncy ball for our own amusement and the dog’s (more relaxing tonic for the nerves: watching Tucker and Nico playing outside with a ball). And now, Jesus H. Christ, it’s night time.

Other accomplishments: shopped for and bought a new blonde wig for Delia, did some costume planning for our next shoot, pooped (twice!), went to the bank, replied to some emails, and concocted some promotional materials. I also drafted twenty-seven blog entries and fifteen podcasts . . . in my head.