Union Rules & Hookers—- 

A dedicated Teamsters union worker was attending a conventionin  Las Vegas  and decided to check out the local brothels. When he got to the first one, he asked the Madam, “Is this a union house? “ “No,” she replied, “I’m sorry it isn’t.” 

Offended at such unfair dealings, the union man stomped off downthe street in search of a more equitable, hopefully unionized shop. 
His search continued until finally he reached a brothel where the Madam responded, “Why yes sir, this is a union house.  We observe all union rules.” The man asked, “And if I pay you $100,what cut do the girls get?” 

He handed the Madam $100, looked around the room,
 And pointed to a stunningly attractive blonde. 

“I’d like her,” he said. 

“I’m sure you would, sir,” said the Madam. Then she gestured to a 92-year old woman in the corner, “but Evelyn here has 67 years seniority and according to union rules, she’s next.” 

    

-image-Reality TV

Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna, whatcha gonna do when they come for you…  Oh relax!  Only your dashing derriere is being pinched.  I’m singing the theme from COPS because I read that contemporary reality television has its roots in such TV programs as COPS.  

Say what?  I should get up against the wall and spread ‘em!  Ooh!  You’re going to strip search me.  I just adore going au naturel.  Oh my God!  You’re taking out a rubber hose.  Hey!  That’s not rubber. That tubby tube is your dick.  Oh, you’re Dick Tracy.  I should have guessed (giggle).  

The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet entertained TV audiences long before reality shows like Keeping Up with the Kardashians.  Oh my God!  I just had a clever thought.  I could have my own reality show.  I’ll call it “Leave it to Beaver” and change my name to “June Cleavage.”  What’s that you said about tedious television?  Hmmm…  What do you think about an 18-year-old boy with a big boner on the show?  I’ll call him “Lumpy.” 

Maybe reality TV isn’t my thing.  Perhaps I should just stick what I know best.  Ahem, I meant “stick to what I know best.”  Let me start with that honey of a hose hidden in your lederhosen.  Don’t worry, Dick, you have my permission to conduct a body cavity search.  Oh la la, now that’s reality (giggle)!

Natasha

www.phillylady.com

-image-NO SEX SINCE 1955

A crusty old Army Sergeant Major found himself at a gala event hosted by a local liberal arts college. There was no shortage of extremely young idealistic ladies in attendance , one of whom approached the Sergeant Major for conversation.

Natasha

www.phillylady.com

-image-Sexbot

HBO has been showing Transformers… Huh?  Okay, I’ll bite; what has the premium movie channel got to do with my twat?  Well, I’ll be!  You could say my twat is like a “box” office at home.  It’s also a premium “channel” on demand (giggle). 

Do you think I could write-off my personal home box office with the IRS?  Oh, that’s right; my twat can’t be a tax deduction, because I use it for work and play.  Huh?  You think I could take a deduction for equipment depreciation?  Wow! I don’t see how you could think that.  Everyone knows my twat gets better with age. 

I almost forgot what I was saying about Transformers.  No, I wasn’t referring to Christine Jorgenson.  I’m talking about machines with artificial intelligence…  No, not coldhearted automists like my ex-husband.  He should have been named Hal.  What do I mean?  Well, let me borrow a quote from the sci-fi movie “2001: A Space Odyssey.”  “I’m afraid.  I’m afraid, Dave.  Dave, my mind is going.  I can feel it…”  Need I say more? (lol)  No, what I’m getting to is “robot fetishism.”  Yup, some folks fantasy about having sex with robots of all kinds.  I wouldn’t have guessed that “Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots” could have such a profound influence on a child, but for whatever reason, some people get off screwing in robot costumes. 

I’ve never known anyone with a robot fetish, unless you think the Tin Man…  Nah, why even go there.  His limited mobility, however, causes me to question a mechanical man’s sexual performance, but then again, my “Love Seat” by Ciciloves gets me off every time. 

Lots of women are insecure about their body and would undoubtedly feel uncomfortable having sex with a man in a robot costume.  Imagine what it would be like for an insecure woman to see herself in that position.  Oh my God!  She might think it’s a scene from the movie “Godzilla Vs. the Robot Monsters.” 

If I were designing a mechanical man for sex, he wouldn’t look like Mr. Machine.  He’d look more like Gort in the 1951 sci-fi movie “The Day the Earth Stood Still.”  He’d look like a cyclopean, chromium vibrator.  He’d be a one-eyed monster that springs to life on my command: “Gort!  Klaatu barada nikto!”  Nah, that’s too difficult.  I’d just say “Gort!  Send me into orbit!” 

I’d be the perfect sex machine.  I’d be a sexbot like “Cherry 2000.”  I’d be anatomically correct and fully functional.  On second thought, I’m already a fully functional sex doll.  I’m just waiting for you to turn me on.  “Beep.  Beeeeeep! BEEEEEEEEP!!

Natasha

www.phillylady.com

-image-Pandora’s Box or Mine????

Oh my God!  A beautiful and procurable box will definitely earn kudos for a girl from guys and gals alike, but can you believe that some chick from the 7^th century BC had a box so bodacious that its reputation has survived the ages?  The imposing immemorial box belonged to a prurient primitive named Pandora.   

Pandora is said to have been endowed with many talents by the gods of Olympus.  I guess her box was one of them.  Maybe I should refer to Pandora as “Her Hollowness.”  Yeah, I know that’s catty of me, but who the heck cares that Pandora got her box from Zeus?  I’m just saying that if you’ve seen one box you’ve seen them all. 

Did you know that Zeus instructed Pandora to keep her box closed?  Yeah right!  Did an omnipotent womanizer like Zeus really think Pandora would be content to keep her legs crossed?  Zeus, what were you thinking?  She couldn’t wait for you to dart off to Mount Olympus so she could get playful with Dionysus.  I can hear the well-endowed nymphet now, “Dionysus, is that a unicorn in your toga or are you just happy to see me?” 

Pandora’s box was full of surprises.  You could say her twat was like a box of “Cracker Jack.”  But there weren’t any toy whistles or pinball games hidden under sweet candied popcorn and peanuts.  Pandora’s box was a cache of peccant and pestilent depravity. 

The tang of tuna is nothing compared to the trenchant odors that transuded from her twat.  You couldn’t have sex with Pandora without fastening an Air Wick Stick-up to her fanny.  Her favorite fragrance could have been Eau de Febreze for God’s sake! 

Excuse me?  I have it all wrong?  Pandora’s legendary box was actually a large jar and not her twat?  Sorry, my bad, but I did read about a man who plunged his penis inside a jar of pasta sauce to pleasure himself.  I don’t believe, however, that Prago was thinking about marketing a sex toy when it coined the slogan “It’s in there.” 

You should call me if you’re in the mood for some spicy Italian.   Francesco Rinaldi and I have this in common: “Made by Italians.  Enjoyed by Everyone.”  Arrivederci (giggle).

-image-It’s the Law

I truly understand the trepidation triggered by proposals to legalize trollops.  But I think bans on booty are largely fallacious and illogical.  Come again?  I absolutely agree with you; statutes shackling solicitation suck, but you’re confusing fallacious for fellatio. My point is that tramps shouldn’t be harried the way torch carrying townsfolk tormented Dr. Frankenstein’s monster.   

I confess to wearing only a sheet and being probed on my back by more doctors than your average girl (for fun, not science), but there’s only one similarity this immodest MILF ever had to the Bride of Frankenstein: an ex-husband who liked me in stitches.  Now let’s move on before I come apart at the seams (giggle). 

There are many laws that make no sense to me.  I’ve read that it’s illegal for chickens to lay eggs between 4:00 p.m. and 8:00 a.m. in Virginia.  How do chickens tell the time?  I suppose they use an egg timer (giggle).   

I have a much better grasp on “cocks” then hens, and can tell you all about being laid, but except for the vibrating egg inside me now—OOOOOOOhhhh—and the plastic eggs that were used to package L’eggs pantyhose, poultry puzzles me. 

I also read about a law in Massachusetts that prohibits tomatoes in clam chowder.  Why is that?  Guys don’t seem to mind that there’s a “clam” in this tomato (giggle). 

It’s reportedly illegal in Phoenix, Arizona, to walk through a hotel lobby with spurs on.  Now that makes sense, especially if you’re walking to my room.  Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy being ridden hard, but leave your spurs at home.  I “buck” without them (giggle).

Natasha

www.phillylady.com

-image-Back to the deep freeze

Well,   Vegas was outstanding… I will not go into detail because we all know, “What happens in Vegas… You know the rest.  However,  I will say I was proud to have walked my life long girlfriend down the isle to be married (yes, of course by Elvis).

So now it is time for “a little less conversation, little more action”  I am still waiting to be approved by Compliance Dept. for the members area.  So hold on any day now….

If you want to get out of the deep freeze come visit me and I will warm you up.

Enjoy the day

Natasha

www.phillylady.com

-image-Bright Light City gonna set my soul on Fire

Ok…. What song is that and who sings it?  It is Elvis of course!!! and it is Viva Las Vegas.  Well, that is were I will be from Jan 4th thru Jan 8th.

More good news is………………The members area should be LIVE!!! by Jan 4th. 

20 videos and over 500 pictures of me!!

Yes of course I am taking my buddy the love seat by www.ciciloves.com with me.

You think they will let me keep it on my lap and ride it on the plane????

www.phillylady.com