bANk sTREeT irReLEvanTs

 Okay, so I just got back from Vancouver where I was visiting my cousin, Echo.  And she told me she was a professional escort, which at first I thought sounded super fun because she gets to go on lots of dates and sometimes gets to go to some nice places.  But then she told me ALL about her job and then I was kind of surprised and also curious. So, we talked all about it for hours and hours. She says she likes her job as much as most people like theirs.  She’s really smart, so I guess she knows what’s right for her. In her spare time Echo works with this group in Vancouver that’s trying to start something called a “cooperative” for all kinds of people who do sex jobs so they can be safe and healthy in their jobs like other people like to be in theirs. Because, guess what?  Doing sex stuff for a job is illegal and even Echo was arrested once!!! And then I thought that was totally crazy because Echo is really nice and nobody’s making her do this job and she isn’t robbing anyone or hurting anyone and the people who hire Echo are happy, right?

Echo says lots of sex job people don’t have a job as good as hers though and some people do sex jobs because they don’t have other choices or because they have other kinds of problems and they have to do their jobs on the streets where all sorts of bad things can happen to them.  She took me to meet some of the people she’s working with and some were super nice like Echo and some were a little scary, and some made me really sad.

So I think the idea of a cooperative is super cool, and I wanted to give them some money to help, but Echo says they’ve got one big step done, but they have to get some laws changed and stuff before they can get the cooperative. I wish I was smarter because I don’t really understand what the problem is. Because when I got back to Ottawa the other day I saw that the police were really proud of arresting a bunch of people on the weekend for doing sex and I couldn’t believe it and it made me a little angry because I thought of Echo and her friends. So, it would be super fabulous if they can get that cooperative because Echo says that will “open the door” and I think it’s a lot better to open doors for people than to slam them in their faces, don’t you?

Once again Shagatha is in despair of the human race. A late night discussion recently alerted Shagatha to the joyless tale of Candace Leadley from Strathmore, Ontario (A distant relative or acquaintance or neighbour or something of one of Shagatha’s friends.)Candace, it seems was unhappy about the size of her ta-tas, but, as a single mom, couldn’t afford implants.  What to do? What to do?  Pawn the family jewels? Sell one of the children? Take an ever more drastic measure and learn to love herself and her healthy young body?

Certainly not! And why should she, asks Shagatha, when websites like this exist?  Candace was delighted to stumble across this site. What fun!  Candace just popped her real breasts on the internet, engaged in some flirty chitchat, posted some live action video of herself and her pathetically normal mammaries and men from all over the world sent in money so she could buy herself some unreal breasts.

Shagatha is given to understand that this website very kindly holds an account for silicone-deprived women and once there’s enough in the kitty, the money is transferred to whichever surgeon will be performing the operation. Lucky Candace is the first Canadian woman to hustle her A sufficiently to rack up the $9 K required to buy her a couple of 36C Ts.

Men have the privilege of getting to know their favorite gal in a more intimate manner and the knowledge that they are helping a poor young thing achieve her goals.

Is Shagatha the only one whose heart’s cockles are not warmed by this?

Elfy, I hope you’re planning to leave all your alley cats in the alley when we go over to Elgin Street. And Empty, you better leave your pussy behind too. I fear there’s some nefarious goings-on going on over there on Elgin Street.

 There’s a picture of that sweet Bucky looking all adorable in a soup pot on the stove. They say he went missing right after that picture was taken!! I got chills up and down my spine when I read that.

And just now I read that Coyote has offered to look after Duncan when Zoom goes away to Halibut School! I don’t like to start rumours, and I don’t have any proof of anything, but I wonder if we should alert Zoom to the terrible fate that might befall poor innocent Duncan if she leaves him on Elgin Street with the Galloping Gourmet?

Oh my gosh, that rascally pussy of mine keeps jumping in the shower with me - can you imagine? She seems to really love the shower massage thingy especially.  It’s so cute to watch. But then she’s all wet and I have to rub her super gently with a nice fluffy towel so she doesn’t catch cold.  My vetree  veteran  verternay  animal doctor told me young little pussies are very sensitive and you have to be super careful not to hurt them. So I am being.

So, I’m super excited about blogging about my pussy because there are a lot of people out there who love reading about pussies and even have blogs of their own where they show pictures and talk about all the fun they have with their little furry pussy friends. So now I don’t know if I should be a restaurant reviewer girl or a pussy blogging girl?? Maybe I could do both. But that seems like a lot of writing. Oh well. I’ll try not to think about it too much and just see what happens.

Anyway, I know you’re all dying to find out what I named my pussy and thank you sooooo much for all the really super cool suggestions and I thought about them all really long and hard until my head hurt. But then I just sat and stared at my pussy for a really super long, long time and then suddenly a name just popped into my head!

JUICEY! Kind of like Josie which is a name I always loved since I saw Josie and the Pussycats, but also kind of like to say that she’s sweet and kind of damp all the time  (from jumping in the shower so much).  Get it? Don’t you think that’s cute? I’m really amazed about how I thought of that, but as soon as I did I knew it was perfect.

So, Ta-da… Everybody:  meet, Juicy Pussy!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my gosh, guess what? Remember yesterday I was so super sad and I thought how it might be nice to have a pet? Well, this morning I was waking up when I noticed something hot and squirmy under my covers. It was kind of a weird feeling and I didn’t know what to think so I just peeked a little bit and I saw something furry, so then I pushed my covers back even more and there was a pussy!!! It was the cutest thing I ever saw and I just couldn’t believe my eyes, so I reached out really gently and stroked it a little and it felt so nice and warm and downy, so I stroked it a little more and right away I cheered up a lot.

My pussy purred and licked me with it’s little tongue and jumped around and make little squeaky noises and, oh my, it was soooo wonderful. I didn’t want to even get out of bed because it was just so nice and cozy in my bed — I just wanted to lay there all day playing with my pussy. But eventually I got up and ran to find Daddy to thank him for my present. But when I found him he said he had nothing to do with my pussy and then he blushed, so I don’t know if he just didn’t want to tell me because he wanted to be mysterious or if he really wasn’t the one who put that pussy under my covers. But who else could it have been?

Whoever it was, I’m so grateful to have a pussy of my very own. I just know we’re going to have so much fun together. I can’t wait to show everybody my new pussy. I had to get the pool boy to help me take a picture of my pussy, because it’s not easy to take a good pussy picture by yourself and it’s better if someone holds it and someone else takes the picture. He was really excited when I asked him to help me. So he took the picture while I made sure my pussy was posed in a super cute way. Isn’t she gorgeous?

So now I need a name for my pussy and I want all my friends to help me pick one. What do you think?

PS: I’m soooo super excited!!!!

Zoom asked if we stopped blogging. That’s a very bad sign. It means we’re not blogging enough. We need to pick up the pace, people!

 By the way….I mean ‘people’ in a figurative sense, since me and Foxy and the Eye and Elfy aren’t really people. If we were people, I’d be saying ‘people’ in a literal sense.

 I bet you’re wondering how I got to be such a grammar whiz all of a sudden, eh? Well, I’ve been teaching myself grammar on the Interwebs!

 You might not know this, but most furniture has never seen the inside of a classroom. Some desks and chairs have, and the odd table, but the vast majority of us have never spent a single day in school. This problem is exasperated by the fact that very few of us have any contact with books, except for the bookcases of course, and the odd nightstand and coffee table.

I believe the Interwebs might literally prove to be the anecdote to the problem of uneducated furniture.

(This is one smart fox.)

The Fox and the Crow

Aesop’s Fables

Translated by George Fyler Townsend

A CROW having stolen a bit of meat, perched in a tree and held it in her beak. A Fox, seeing this, longed to possess the meat himself, and by a wily stratagem succeeded.

“How handsome is the Crow,” he exclaimed, “in the beauty of her shape and in the fairness of her complexion! Oh, if her voice were only equal to her beauty, she would deservedly be considered the Queen of Birds!”

This he said deceitfully; but the Crow, anxious to refute the reflection cast upon her voice, set up a loud caw and dropped the flesh.

The Fox quickly picked it up, and thus addressed the Crow: “My good Crow, your voice is right enough, but your wit is wanting.”  

 (Your wit is wanting!!! Ha ha ha ha ha!! I love that.)

The moral for foxes is, crows are stupid and they can’t sing.
The moral for crows is, watch out for foxes! They’re going to get the meat every time.

Has anybody else noticed that someone’s got a heart on for Aggie?

 Posted by Shagatha’s Personal Assistant

Recently, two of Shagatha’s favourite bloggers, Jo Stockton and the inimitable Aggie, posted rave reviews about the book, My Life in France by Julia Child.  Shagatha loves France and food and especially French food and was quite excited to read this memoir about someone’s life in France and someone who was quite the French food foodie.

Aggie and Jo loved this book, so naturally, Shagatha was utterly prepared to love it as well. Unfortunately, she did not. Shagatha would very much like to understand what Jo and Aggie found so lovable and inspiring about Ms. Child. Shagatha found the book quite repulsive. Shagatha noticed very little about France or the French people in this book, so the title is a bit misleading.  This book is about Julia Child and her single-minded obsession with bringing her version of French food to America.

Shagatha supposes this, in itself could be viewed as inspiring - how Ms Child overcomes so many obstacles in pursuit of her vision, including friends, partners, family, publishers, etc… All of these people seem to only exist in Julia Child’s life/memoirs insofar as they help or hinder her progress.  One gets no feeling of her love or affection for any of them. She leaves her dying father to be cared for by her siblings because she’s just too busy testing recipes for her next book and feels only “relief” when he finally dies.

Ms Child also seems to pack her husband off to a nursing home as soon as he becomes infirm because she’s busy with TV appearances to look after him? This is not really explained. Shagatha wonders whatever became of poor Paul, who just slithers around the periphery of the book like a one-dimensional shadow to Julia’s overwhelming light until he is of no more use and then just vanishes from the memoir.

Shagatha found a disquieting parallel between Ms Child’s greedy devouring of people and pretty much every other living creature she encounters. Shagatha has a fairly sophisticated palate, but eating larks is quite beyond her, as is the thought of enjoying rabbit that has been marinating in its own blood for 24 hours. Ms Child’s detailed descriptions of ducks being put through a duck press or critters sliced up whilst still alive were quite revolting, particularly in light of Ms Child’s voracious anticipation of seeing them on her plate.

Yes, Julia Child is an American icon. Yes, she accomplished a great deal. Overall, though, Shagatha is perplexed about the love and inspiration apparently generated by this book.  Is Shagatha missing or not understanding something vital? She would welcome Aggie and/or Jo’s perception and/or the views of anyone else who has read this book.