weaktwos

Here we are in the Pickwick Hotel in San Francisco. This is a nice little hotel. It is centrally located to everything we need.

We left Sacramento about 10:30 am. We stopped off in Vacaville at Paper Plus, the Papyrus outlet store, for taogrl to acquire some quality Papyrus products at a discounted price. I was amused at the purveying of journals to track favorite website information. I mean. C'mon. You're on the internet because you have a computer. Create a file on the computer with this information and print it out. Don't pay ten bucks for a web site journal that you write by hand.

After we disembarked from the paper store, we went to Skate's by the Bay for lunch. We had a delightful brunch. She had the sole, I had a prime rib hash.

Wind was rolling over the blue-green bay this afternoon in Berkeley. Seagull's surfed the waves of wind as we strolled down the peer, eyeing the city across the bay that was our destination.

Back on the road, we motored across the Bay Bridge and hit the traffic that is so certain to be found in San Francisco around Mission and Market streets. Thanks to the subtle positioning of street signs directing me to our Hotel's parking garage, we ended up circling the block. This was most delightful, as it allowed us to savor city traffic for an extra fifteen minutes.

After checking in and taking a moment to appreciate our accommodations, we decided to walk to Stacey's Bookstore. Stacey's a rather large purveyor of printed matter that has been in business since 1923. It is nice to see a large, successful independent bookstore thriving these days. Perhaps they thrive so because it is a mafia front, but I do not concern myself with such details.

I acquired three books:

• Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer
  
• The Sunday Philosophy Club by Alexander McCall Smith
  
• The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera

taogrl acquired a book on Scotland in anticipation of our eventual trip to said destination.

We took our literary spoils and strolled back to our hotel, to read a bit and decide where to go for dinner. Despite there being some events we could attend tonight, we were preferring to be low key before tomorrow's voyeuristic adventure.

I began reading Everything is Illuminated and then taogrl started to make comments about the poor quality of her reading material. It appears she had stopped perusing the book on Scotland and moved onto something else of a dubious quality.

Somehow taogrl got a hold of some really bad self-published Lesbian Dominant/submissive erotica. And when I say "really bad", I'm being generous. It is so bad, it is bound to be popular in Germany and lampooned on South Park.

I haven't had this much fun being read to since taogrl and our friend G read Geek Love out loud to each other in Seattle.

You don't think I'm going to suffer this craprotica alone, do you? That's right. I've lovingly taken the time to give you a few tasty morsels of this "literature". I painfully present to you excerpts from "Harley:The Story of a Leather Dyke and Her Clan". Oh, and for effect, picture taogrl reading to you while doing a female imitation of Ben Stein, and the experience will be complete.

Master Harley laughed, a wicked, evil, almost fierce laugh and it pierced Karen's soul like a syringe. "Perhaps, My Pet, but first, you must earn such pleasure." Harley saw the mix of momentary disappointment followed by excitement in Karen's eyes.

"Do you live near here, My Pet?"

"Yes, Master. My trailer is down the dirt road."

And it turns out it's strap-on lesbian D/s erotica. I don't think I'll ever be able to understand lesbians who want to act like men to the point that they want to wear a strap-on all the time. Nor can I understand the mystique of fellating a rubber dildo. Truly different strokes for different folks.


The evil grin returned to Harley's face. She still held the girl's hair tightly balled in her right fist. Harley's left hand quickly unzipped the tight jeans which had so securely held back her huge dick. Now it was free as Harley pulled the Monster from her Levi's.

I had no idea she stored a copy of this book in her Levi's.

[Fast forwarding through the literary landscape as rich in destruction as post Katrina New Orleans.]

The textual cherry on top features Harley singing a lullaby to Karen, her trailer park sub.

Nothing emphasizes society's vapid potential like really bad erotica. As much as I respect the right for consenting folks to do as they please, if your hobby includes sucking rubber or having rubber you purchased sucked compounded by writing about said experience, I think it is time to get a new hobby. Let the record also reflect that Harley learned her stern Dominant ways from her adopted mother. Aww yeah.

Yes, I know your lives have been enriched by this post.

reannon, I think you should go into writing Lesbian BDSM erotica. The genre could use people who know how to write. I think it could be a money making niche for you.