I realized I loved you unconditionally and how committed to you I was, despite my overwhelming fear of intimacy after it was too late to tell you. Resurrecting you was impossible; you were no longer within my reach. I tried talking to your ghost; though I wasn’t convinced you could evolve into ghostly material. A year later, I still mourn your death, when I should be celebrating your life; for that I am sorry. I’m hoping this will help me find closure because dear vibrator, you always delivered, and your model is obsolete, even at the vintage-of-vintyagest porn stores. I kick myself daily, faced with the truth: all you needed was two new Duracells.

After perusing a list of fetishes, anything from amputation, to insects crawling through and around one’s genitalia, necrophilia, and furies, among others, it all seemed so banal. What fetishfest would be complete without comes with tchoch?! Not that I’m a fetishxpert.

I just think the fetish community might want to consider some new fetishes to add to the list. So, I decided to suggest a few.

• Allergies – Embrace a dame with a penchant for repetitious sneezing at the most inopportune times. Though she’ll tank in the blowjob department during a sneeze-fest, why can’t snot be hot?
• Harkin’ and Shmarkin – An addendum to the allergy fetish, to include, but not limited to, belching and farting. Note: This is not a feces crossover. If a girl’s belches and farts carry a tune, and if you’re a musician, this could really help in the creative department. You can whip out some snazzy classical tunes, and thank her with a with a burp-fart-infused-Bach fuck.
• Politics – Engaging sexually with someone who doesn’t share your political views leads to hostile, aggressive sex. Filthy language can include: BP is a pack of mother fucking liars that lack any sense of responsibility for their actions. Or, if you actually believe Sarah Palin has a positive impact on this country, women’s rights, and is intelligent, masturbate in a corner wearing a dunce cap.
• The Happy Homo Fetish – If you’re attracted to him, of course he’s gay. If you’re not, give him your number, even if he does resemble Quasimodo, and has the brains of an Alaskan sea fisherman.

What are your fetishes? Come on, don’t be shy…

Aside from the fact that I have an eye infucktion burning my lady ball, and I’m busier than a tunnel rat foraging for a fuck, and more eggzhausted than a street walker pulling an all nighter wearing this ensemble, I’d say I’m doing mighty fine.

Let’s play the “will you please stop emailing the wrong katiegirl game”, shall we? Great!

Hey katie wua?

What is a wua? Enlighten me. I asked, but didn’t get a response. I’m thinking it’s an acronym for Wear Underwear Always. This begs the question, how do you know I don’t and why is my undergarment status of concern to you.

I was invited to a (not my words) chic champagne brunch by Queen of the Lake, in Reno. If someone can please explain what’s chic about Reno, I’d appreciate it. Having been there many times, I can’t say that it’s synonymous with chic. But, what do I know?!

Kyra screamed this into my inbox:

I invited you to chat !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I explained that I wasn’t the Katie she was looking for, to which she responded by calling me a snot. Really? I was so disillusioned by her response given her zeal to chat. She couldn’t muster a ‘cuntzilla” as Grainy calls me.

My good pal Rye-Rye sent me this. Ha. Loved it.

Rylee is one of our favorites here; she sends me emails all the time and this month was no different. I received 5:

Why don’t you ever email me?!=:(:(:(“.

Three frowns. I hope she didn’t throw herself over a bridge.

Kyra stomped her feet and threw a tantrum later in the month.

I INVITED YOU TO CHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I think reasoning with her at this stage in our e-stalking relationship isn’t in the cards.

I received another FooPets e-card, this time from Madelyn. Dog. Dead. Deal.

Rylee emailed me with even more frowns, if you can believe it.

I had such a board time at curch:(((((

Love “board”. I sent her a link to postal service of the saved, so she’d feel that her endeavor wasn’t for naught. I also wanted to ask her why she bothered going, but it seemed inappropriate. Speaking of the postal service, did you know there’s a website called Postal Reporter, big postal fun: A postal news blog, postal photos, books, videos and postal attendance. Everybody clap.

Good ol’ Rylee came back for more. Apparently, I forgot a few things…

Hey whats up? Hope you can play. I want to pik to chat with u. Oh and Katie you forgot your pillo again!!!!!!! Well see u soon love, me:)! Rylee if u wer wondering:))!

I appreciated the ‘Rylee if u wer wondering” at the end, concerned that I’d forgotten her. As if?!

How apropos, I just received an email from, I kid you not, 1-800-suicide.

I would

1. Play with them all day regardless of who was watching, my hand would spend so much time in my pants, I’d have to charge it rent
2. I’d treat them like marbles and ping-pong balls
3. I’d play with them in front of old ladies
4. I’d sit in restaurants spread eagle and watch people’s reactions while I was sack-plunging
5. I’d unzip my pants and let them hang out every so often for fresh air and a spot of color (always in search of a vitamin D boost)
6. I’d nickname them, something manly like Jimmy the butcher and Vinny the neck:
7. I’d give them literary nicknames like Bukowski and Vonnegut