6:59 A.M.  The radio alarm jarred her angrily awake, as always. It was set to the hip hop station to force her to get up immediately and switch off the the fucking racket before leaping like a wounded gazelle from bed and dragging a brush through her auburn tangles, prepared to face another day educating the youth of America. As she reached for her noisy Zenith she came to an abrupt halt as bombastic horns and kettle dr...

  It was a dark and dreary February night as I drove home, fitting my mood. It was Valentine's Day, my least favorite day of the year. A day championed by Hallmark to peddle overpriced, sappy cards to the gullible masses in order to line their greedy corporate pockets. Not that I'm cynical, you understand. It's just a day that highlights my loneliness. But in all fairness, much of that falls on me. My compulsive pickiness...

My dad regretted not having a son. He denies it of course but I could tell by how he pushed athletics on me at a young age. He even bought me a jock strap for my fourth birthday which confused us both. I grew up in Rabbit Ridge KY so began my fabled sports career with tennis and softball. I was decent in tennis until my boobs sprouted like melons, causing boys to giggle each time I rushed the net. I also tended to grunt o...

Greetings from checkout #5 at my local supermarket. A more frenzied woman you will never meet. What began as simply checking an email led me here, dressed like a Goodwill Store supermodel in cutoff jeans and a Bengals tee. My plan was to get in then flee quickly like a slutty teen at Camp Crystal Lake. The email of note was from my online lover, Pussy4rent30 (if that is her real name!) who was feeling legendarily horny. H...

I remember the night of my epiphany, feeling much like Columbus when he discovered Ohio. I'm  Chlamydia Burns, a southern gal from Chatanooga working as an Olive Garden server, befitting my Vanderbilt education. But enough about me. I'm thirty-six, single,  auburn hair, hippy, (sounds so much better than big-assed) buxom (which doesn't sound better than 'big tits'). I was tossing and turning at 1:42 AM. Restless. Needy. I...

Notorious?  The only thing I know about "Notorious" is the Hitchcock movie,  but I was about to find out much more. Remember me? I'm Penelope Spade,  a novice Private Eye in Cincinnati,  Ohio.  The business started slow but since cracking the Col. Mustard murder case, where he met a gruesome demise by a candlestick in the conservatory, my fame has spread like a Kardashian's legs on first dates.  Speaking of mustard, I rea...

I'm  Piper Cinnabon, (name changed to protect the innocent). It was a cold and dreary morning walking the cold and dreary New York streets with my girlfriend, Cynthia, a bewitching, African-American woman with the complexion of hot chocolate (she was equally as soothing and warming on cold mornings, I might add). I had already treated her to a delicious Egg McMuffin breakfast (without coupons). I was so much in love, I ev...

I'm Penelope Spade, budding Private Eye. Beside me, in my blue Mini Cooper as we cruise up Highway 71, sits Katrina, my tall, blonde lover, her shorts accentuating her long, sensual gams. I met her on my first caper, six months ago. But time is taking its toll. Nothing I can put my finger on (or in), but we talk less and sex is now as infrequent as a good Star Wars movie. (I warn you before you waste a lot of time reading...

As the bright, invasive afternoon sunlight came streaming through my stained (with dust and dirt) glass window, I found myself spooning (and possibly forking) with my new dream girl, Winter Summer, whom I had met earlier at the Public Market. Rubbing my aching jaw from our earlier sexcapades, fearing I might have lockjaw then grinning like an escaped lunatic as I recalled her hairy pussy, suddenly so afraid she might be a...

The first Barbie doll was sold on 9 March 1959. The rest is history as they say. The mythology surrounding the doll has become a Jungian archetype for American women. For these women Barbie is far more than a “toy”: she is a metaphor for their unconscious desires and dreams. To “be” Barbie is a collectively inherited concept for millions of young women. The wise ancient Greeks understood that humans are tiny pawns being b...