Friday, June 24, 2011

Quotes from Friday night...

Once I was here and now I am not.
Maybe it's because you
are full of snot.

That's okay, you smelled
a lot too, kind of like
monkey poo.

I might be drunk,
I might be crazy,
but you look kind of lazy
lying there in my trunk.

So, that's where I went, you
don't have to ask why, I told you
the story and have no reason to lie.

-- detoxendrix
Stuck at a stop light,
just not right.

Stuck at a stop light,
just might light.

Smoke & wait while I
wait & smoke, at this
stop light where I toke.

Hello, Police Pig HOW DO YOU

Do you like my 'do?
Wanna see my poo?

That's the smell,
I swear as I tell your
mother about what I saw
you doin' with your


What?! You got an itch?
What a bitch.
But not my niche
so back an inch

Before you receive a stitch
via fist.

-- Emma Claw & detoxendrix
"I don't poop
anywhere but my
own hand."
-- Sckooter (his spelling)
"We're the  three best friends
that anyone could have!"

(Over and over)
-- B. Reil
"Mini barf."
-- B. Reil
"Crapped on your desk, dog.
What's up?
Crapped on your desk, dog."
-- B. Reil
"Are you going home?" - Emma
"Some day." - Sckooter
"Go! Grab his butt!" - Emma
"I'm not doing that
for your amusement." - detox
"I want to be the wild
monkey & look like one,
too." - Emma
"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" - B. Reil (from the other room)
"Herro preez." - Saint Lo Jo
"OH FUCK!" - Captain P (from the bathroom)
"Who was that?" - detox & Emma
 "They call me Black Nips (/ples)."
-- Tactical and B. Reil
Re: Sckooter's drunk ass.
 "You're just mad 'cuz I
figured out how to shake
-- B. Reil (To Saint Lo Jo and Emma about his nipples--clarified as SHANK NIPPLES)
 *La Hacienda - B. Reil and detox
*La Fiesta - Cap'n P and The OG
 "News Flash of the night:
Gay Marriage was legalized in New York tonight."
 "Fuck off guy. I don't
owe you shit"
-- Cap'n P in regards to Skcooter

 "Build a fort over him!"
-- B. Reil again regarding Sckooter
 "We drew six dicks on the
guy, why does it matter
how big the seventh one is?"
-- Re: Sckooter
-- B. Reil to group Re: Bruno
 "I know where he said it,
in you BUTT!"
-- B. Reil to group Re: Life!
 Awesomes are not Possums."
-- Emma
 "I did it, and it was fun!"
-- B. Reil on kicking cactus
 "There's a bigger couch
over there...O--Okay,
you can lay on Bowser The Bears
-- Saint Lo Jo to Sckooter
 "Bourbon BBQ sauce that
tastes so good. It;s like
a man's dick in my mouth."
-- B. Reil
 "The first color I drew
on with Sckooter was red."-- B. Reil
 "No, it was purple." -- Tactical
"The second color I drew on Sckooter was red." -- B.Reil
-- Every guy. A lot.
Re: David Blaine impressions
 "I forgot I won last round."
-- Cap'n P during Uno
 "What happens in girl talk,
stays in girl talk "
-- Emma
 "You don't drink
and drive, but you do write
on Sckooter."
 -- B.Reil

Friday, June 17, 2011

Yo Haters! You Best Check Yo' Self, Before You Wreck Yo' Self(s).

It's the dawn of a new era—when isn't it?

Throughout the history of civilized society, life choices—especially those dealing with sexuality and race—have been questioned, and ostracized for going against the norm.

The why's of this in our past make sense to me—it's to be expected when most civilizations, colonies, kingdoms--et cetera, et cetera--believed in magic. What baffles--and slightly irritates me-- is that with all the advances that we've made as a whole on the planet Earth, there are still many in the world that want to judge and hate on others.

The haters out there baffle me. I understand they are probably bored, so going to the local hate rally is akin to a night on the town, but surely there are other activities in which they would be able to attend that would prove to be just as entertaining.

I asked a friend what she thought should be done with all the haters, a way to give them a taste of their own medicine. Her response:

“We should hang them by individual strings attached to each metacarpal and phalanx, once restrained we will then proceed to tickle the offender.”

I agreed.

It would work perfectly. It won't be painful—in the beginning, eventually discomfort would likely set in—and the situation would be an almost poetic justice. The bully would get a taste of their own medicine, the tickles serving as a garnish to the humiliation and the universal law—treat others as you would want to be treated—would be upheld.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

The E-Life

MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter, oh my! Online community's have flourished over the last decade or so, giving the nerds, geeks, ugly's, and socially awkward a better chance at a social life. Having trouble finding your niche in a proper click? There are plenty of social networks available that provide what you have trouble attaining in reality.

To each their own, I say. I think the use of online community's will decrease the number of random mass murders from those who feel shunned by society.

Those are my thoughts on that.

In news, Representative Anthony Weiner (D) (heehee his last name is Weiner) , has apparently coached the ex-porn star about their online relationship. It's a good thing she already has acting experience, I'm sure it made it helpful when remembering her lines.

And in technology, Nintendo—those rascals—have announced the release of their newest console the Wii U. A lover of all things Nintendo, I'm super excited, you should be too.


Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Emma's Opinion on Friends with Benefits.

Of late, there has been an openness--of sorts--in the convenience of having yourself a friend with extra perks to the friendship, ones that you don't have with your other acquaintances. Someone to pass the time, lonely nights, and carnal itch, with until the next relationship. I think it all began way back, when personal ad's sprung up—some may recall a little film, Desperately Seeking Susan. Since then the personals have become somewhat of a pun, as we've advanced to Online Booty Call and whatnot.

I, for one, think it spectacular that we've progressed to such a sexually awakened society. Why, we may be but a breath away, to living a reality similar to Aldous Huxley's, Brave New World. My worry with the newfangled liberation is with the increase in outward sexuality and a parallel increase in entertainment ( movies, literature, Internet, et cetera, et cetera ) following along with popular culture, there has become a delusion that finding your future life partner via the fuck buddy is good as any other approach.

While I don't doubt, there may be small percentage who will or have experienced this naughty fairy tale ending--of finding a compatible, with one, who was once just a friend. There is an even larger percent though,  who think this will be their reality. In which in will not. Leading to disappointment—probably a lot of it. In a perfect sextopia, there would be little confusion, if all had the ability to withhold the emotions that often correlate with any sexual relationship. There are those who can accomplish this easy peasy like, but as those individuals are actually few, I think it important to remind, there are some who can and others who can not—nothing wrong with that. As long as you are aware that this is the type of sexual mentality you possess.

A few may be asking, “Emma, how do I know if I'm one of the few, the proud, and the horny?” In which I would reply, “Easy, my friend, trial and error.” Cruel, indeed, there is most likely a guarantee of heartache in the future, but in the name of science and all that, you must find a way.

For you heathens, who can enjoy sex in its pure primitiveness—get yo' grind on, just remember to stay safe.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Unproductivety at it's best...

I was having a little trouble with writing anything of value today, giving up I started wandering through my Netbook and reminiscing over all the funny photos I've accumulated. Thought I would share them with you, cause I care.

This last one is a drunken dance I did in a bar restroom. If you can imagine, it was even more amusing than this picture. One of my finer moments, if I do say so meself. 

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Look good for The Rapture

If you're looking to spend money on losing weight, enjoy caffeine, and wearing leggings, they've finally come up with a product just for you. A doctor, going by the name of Oz just featured the caffeinated and Shea Butter enriched attire on her show about inexpensive alternatives to cosmetic surgery. Here is an example of results to expect in 28 days...

From what I've perused, the advance technology for the Lytess Leggings is near revolutionary. All you have to do is move around a bit and the micro beads embedded into the fabric will be released and you can kiss cellulite away. My kitten friend, Faith,  was less than impressed when I nudged her awake from her slumber to tell her about them.   She started to remind me of our stance on all things diet related, but I quickly stopped her assuring her it wasn't for the cellulite relief that I wanted them, but for the caffeine high and silky skin they would provide. A $70 pair of tights that will last roughly 30 washes should save me a bounty in coffee, tea, and lotion. Her only response was to shake her head at me, mumbling about “silly humans” as she returned to her snooze.

I suppose it doesn't really matter, there is new proof the end times are among us. Birds have now begun to fall out of the sky. That's right. Birds. Parrots to be exact. The colorful winged creatures have discovered the indulgence of a good buzz and have been binging since early May, its rumored they plan to continue until the end times leave the cockroaches at the top of the food chain.

Until then here is a video of an awkward political moment to enjoy...

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Emma Claw, Love Doctor and Anarchist Dater Extraordinaire.

As a preference, I don't generally take the traditional approach to dating, preferring a Darwinism approach to my love life. I won't go into the semantics of how I wade through suitors, but if you're familiar with the show Gladiator, that can give you a pretty good idea.

After twenty some years of staring at strangers in the midst of the primal dance of lust, I haven't become so disillusioned to consider myself any kind of expert--yet--but I insist anyway on imparting some advice, for those of you looking for love in all the wrong places.

I have an inkling, that there are a few of you reading articles, and how to books on the who, what, where, and why of finding the right significant other. I want to discourage you from this, it will only confuse and befuddle. An example will be included here, to clear up any confusion on what literature should be avoided. It's also come to my understanding, there are a set of rules, in which one is supposed to go about during the entire courting process. Before and after finding The One. Riiight. I'm not one for rules, a true rebel at heart I be. I would encourage the same behavior of all. The staple of putting expectations on what has to happen in order to find a proper match is tedious and really who benefits from all these nay-says? Not you, square.

The breeders out there, who haven't yet had the opportunity to contribute to the continuance of humanity, may be getting a little itchy at the prospect of not knowing how to find your baby daddy/mamma. Relax. You will likely have no issue finding your true and only without the stipulations in place. It may actually be easier, and if anything there will be fun to be had. I feel a strong conviction that without the misconceptions placed around the shroud of finding a suitable partner, many hearts shall be spared—not all, mind you, but a significant change in the statistic ought to show.

Happy hunting.

Emma's take on boys and girls

There seems to be a lot of confusion between the sexes, and what do we usually do when we don't understand something? Fight about it amongst ourselves--duh. So, the debate, slash, battle between the sexes rages, in a never ending struggle for one to prove supremacy over the other. One—of many—complaints from both parties is an uncertainty of what the other truly desires from their mate.

Men, you may have heard that we females desire a 'bad' boy. The rebel. A Casanova. Someone, in which we can exclaim: “But I love him!” to Mommy and Daddy. A man's, man is what we pine after. I won't deny, there may be a molecule of truth within the rumor—who would be truly content in a stepford relationship--but that doesn't mean most sensible woman want to end up as the next feature on Cheaters and/or Cops. I understand how some of you gentlemen may misinterpret; the ol' “make them feel bad about themselves and they'll be thanking you to sleep with them” ruse works. Almost flawlessly. There are enough of us who continue to get acquainted with you biblically, that it's little wonder you would want to change your tactics. As they say, if it's not broken don't fix it.

Ladies, I know how difficult it can be to process copious amounts of estrogen and remain sane, but let me remind you of our foremothers who burned their bras in order for us to have the rights we enjoy today. Voting, driving, and being allowed out at night are just a few liberation’s they sacrificed lingerie for. There are times, in which we're even thought of as more than a womb, breathlessly awaiting to receive a male's seed—go team! Unfortunately not all of us are behaving in a favorable manner. Just ask Biz Markie, he can explain to you all about the girl he gave his heart to, after he asked if she was available, and she assured that she only had a 'friend'. A year to make love he waited! 365 days of celibacy, a difficult task for most of us sinners. The sacrifice he made was gallant, only to find his intended with another fellow, their tongue in his affections mouth. His heart? Shattered. Our excuse/argument for these types of actions? Sexual liberation, or if you want to get scientific with it: fucking like dudes. That, or you've stopped making us feel special.

Communication seems to be the obvious issue here. Men are from Mars, women Venus, and all that propaganda, with no real solution presenting itself. Oh, we've heard your complaints gentlemen, about mixed signals and what not—we just don’t care. And most of us know you're just doing what's necessary to get your pet dragon fondled. The reasons for it all are inconsequential, the real importance is that the fighting must continue. It's like the Circle of Life, it moves us all. Without it, the universe would likely fold in on itself and there would be no more sex. For anybody. We'd all be losers then.

As a bonus, I've included a link to some fascinating material correlating the male I.Q and the size of his penis. Quite informative. Friends, think about vacationing to the Congo or Ecuador.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Current Events

A sneaky shark, found his way into an English, fish—and other creatures of the water world—zoo. I'm still not sure how he got in there, but eggs were mentioned and there was some talk of Easter. It sounds like the work of The Easter Bunny—but that's just me. Either way it's stealth powers are super nifty, and could come in handy, if say, one needed to sneak into a male locker room.

An adventurous Ohio couple was caught rafting without the proper attire and later lied about their excursion. The judge, a lenient man, sentenced them to a mere 60 hours of wading in a toddler pool at a town gathering. Life jackets will be worn. Pamphlets will be passed out as well.

In naked news, if you didn't get a chance to see President Reagan's daughter—Patti Davis--when she posed for Playboy in 94', at the age of 42, now's your chance to amend that. At 58, she'll be strutting her cougerness for More magazine. Side note—she also thinks Sarah Palin is a B word, who enjoys killing defenseless animals.

Good news for bible followers. You can mark a few sins off the  “what not to do, so you don't end up in hell” list. Abortions will no longer send you into a fiery pit, apparently it's not even mentioned. The whole thing was made up! Men, tired of your wife, but can't divorce her? Don't want to pay child or spousal support? Now you can take a new. In fact you can take as many as you like. King Solomon did. Lesbians, you can now go to heaven. It's the non-virgin brides who are shit out of luck. Beware of stones. The bible also encourages erotic literature and the enjoyment of sex—see it doesn't just have to be one position. Check out Song of Songs, also known as the Song of Solomon—that rascal.Go on. You know you want to. Adultery, incest, and sex with angels are the only sexual behaviors that need to be avoided. Everything else is a 'thumbs up', have at it! Wanna enjoy a little sodomy? Go ahead, just make sure you donate to a proper charity. If that doesn't call for an amen, what does?

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Diva Portia De Costa's upcoming releases

Power of ThreePOWER OF THREE

A Walk on the Wild Side Publication

It's no fun being dumped almost at the altar, but newly not engaged Laurie decides to make the best of things and enjoy her honeymoon at an exotic Caribbean resort all on her own. The plan is to lie in the sun, read a book, do a bit of birdwatching and exploring... anything to take her mind off her rat of an ex fiance and the bimbo he got pregnant.

But it's not easy to forget about love and sex when everyone around her at the resort is getting in on. Pretty soon, she's using her binoculars to spy on creatures a bit higher up the evolutionary scale - the hot threesome in one of the adjacent cabanas, and the gorgeously hunky gay couple who are also staying just across the courtyard.

These delicious men especially fire her senses and make her forget her romantic woes, and when she realises that they're watching her while she's watching them, what else is a girl to do but accept the invitation of a lifetime, and become part of a threesome herself?

But what if her luscious faux honeymoon menage is only the beginning of better and hotter things to come?

Author's note: this is an original work, never before published.

More information and excerpt at:

Available from Smashwords, All Romance eBooks, Amazon Kindle US and Amazon Kindle UK


Forbidden TreasuresA Walk on the Wild Side publication

When Alice Porter finds a chest full of vintage curiosa at an antique market, she little realizes how her discovery of the forgotten treasures of an Edwardian disciplinarian will change her life. The sexy hoard includes a punishment ledger and a well used rattan cane, and the bygone items intrigue her husband Julian too. Sharing and experimenting with the writings and the wicked implement, the lovers begin a voyage of forbidden sensuality that shocks and thrills them both, revealing dark secrets from Julian's past and bringing the two of them closer together than they've ever been before.

Author's note: this is an original work, never before published.

More information and excerpt at:

Available from Smashwords, Amazon Kindle US, Amazon Kindle UK and All Romance eBooks

Quatrain of the Lush

A glass of wine makes everything fine,
Until the glass is empty.
Two or three more will provide succor,
To greet your evenings fancy.

Emma's day out

Friends and family often give me what I would define as, a good bitching at, insisting that I need to get out of the house more often. I'll admit, I don't like to venture out into society very often. I just prefer the haven of home. In a perfect world , everything I desired would be brought to my hovel. As it is, the powers that be haven't yet granted me this teensy weensy favor, and I'm forced to traverse the world of the normals for some reason or another—sometimes I enjoy it, most times not.

Today's quest had me venturing to the bank with a quick stop to the post office.

I should have known better--with all the recent gales we're experiencing here in Coastal California--to let my guard down. All the pollen Mother Earth is flinging around has left the community addled. It's the only reason I could think for my neighbors to leave their gate open so there angry canine could venture out. This was a problem for me, as I have an irrational fear of dogs I haven't become familiar with—to an extreme that when entering someones home for the first time, I inquire if they have any of the beasties, and require reassurance to enter if so. They give my Endocrine System a proper workout. The thought of strays has me skittish even on short walks.

That's doesn't mean I don't like them, I do. I have a dog. Paulie is lovely:

I even share my liquorice with my furry friend:

I'm just a firm believer in stranger danger and I don't discriminate by species.

As I took my first steps down the walk to my car, I caught a flash of yellow in my peripheral and turned to see Charlie standing outside his normal sanctuary. Eyes were met briefly before a quick about face had me heading back to safety. Charlie spends most of his time outside barking at anything that moves, so you can understand how I was weary and let instinct drive me to turn tail and make a hasty retreat. A few quick breaths and a thorough peke (pun intended) out the kitchen window confirmed that the neighbor had already re-confined the object of my anxiety. I waited a bit longer, giving myself a quick pep talk, and made a quick jog of it out the door to my vehicle, yoga pants flapping in the wind.

Once in the comfort of my auto, the familiar scent of upholstery and strawberry car freshener eased the rest of my worry and I continued on my way, rocking out to the legendary Bob Dylan and visionary Sir Mix-A-lot.

Moving along in my automobile, I make it only a few blocks before a stutter mid-acceleration informs me I'm running on fumes, and dangerously close to running out of the reserve, unless I make a detour to the closest gas station. Refueling my gas tank is something I often put off until the last possible moment--yes, I know this is bad and can damage my fuel pump, obviously the consequences mean little to me. So once finished pumping my $5 a gallon petroleum into my beloved Toyota ( I may not take the best care of her but it doesn't mean I don't care), I continued on my journey. My next and finale stop: The bank.

The rest of the excursion was rather predictable. I managed to slow my inertia and my forehead barely made contact with the glass entrance of the financial institution. And when I departed I only gave the female, in the stupid red car who thought that idling in the middle of the parking lane was a perfect place to hold a conversation with an equally dull female, a passing evil eye.

I'm envious of my niece and wish to replicate her body language:

After I have a relaxing soak like this kid:

Friday, May 20, 2011


On the eve of a supermoon many believe is about to bring with it an apocalypse,  I got to thinking about underpants. We are bound to see a few sets frolicking skyclad--or nearly--under the phenomena tomorrow night—one can at least hope. Wistful wishes having me hoping this guy will make an appearance as well:

As much debate concerned with the speculation that Chicken Little may have been right about the sky, there is another going on: Boxers or briefs? Can't decide? Go with my personal favorite, the boxer brief. Underwear too constraining? Go commando, I hear it can make your maypole larger.

To all the fellows currently incinerating their under-pant collection, hold off and check with a physician or maybe just do some extensive Googlizing. I write from knowledge that's been derived strictly from schoolyard hearsay.

 Boys, whatever your choice in undergarments may be, I think it essential every man own a pair of these:

Thursday, May 19, 2011

The Lennie Small of porn stars

Skimming along in an article titled: Prevent STD's Like a Porn Star, I read all about a convenient company, Talent TestingService. They provide adult performers with test's for a variety of transmittable diseases. Conveniently providing the results for clients on the set or before hand via The Onlines.

So there I am, perusing along, gaining much of the information from the interviewed couple, who would soon begin a professional relationship. The female, Dylan Ryan, mentions that she has never contracted a venereal, has an average of five different sexual partners a month professionally, and uses condoms with men when off the clock. Awesome as that is, I had to pause when the male, Danny Wylde, informed that he contracted chlamydia or gonorrhea at least once a year. No big deal like. Nothing a dosing of antibiotics can't take care of.

Mr. Wyldes honesty is commendable, and his nonchalance is neither surprising or scandalizing. My issue with his confession was while Ms. Ryan has managed to stay infection free, he is running around contracting disease annually. I'll admit finishing the article leaves me with the impression that Danny may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but isn't there a point where one would learn? Is there no fretting that having to take antibiotics routinely might result is some sort of immunity? Does he not simply worry about ending up with a distressing case of incurable crotch rot? How many partners get a little something to regret him by before his monthly STD check catches his most resent bout of the clap?

But what's really got me stumped, is how a male, who is under the impression that the likelihood of him contracting HIV is less of a concern because he only sleeps with women, hasn't tripped, fallen into the toilet, and drowned?

I'd much rather watch this guy get his freak on:

I heart this shirt

Here is the link if your feelings are mutual and you want one of your very own. Other neat apparel can be found following said linkage. Proceed benefits go to The American Library Association.

To find out more about the origin of the quote and the humorous rant it derived from, follow the link to CensoredGenius.

Au revoir. Jusqu'à la prochaine fois.

What would The Marquis de Sade think?

Best remembered for his mixing political and religious messages with his libertine sexuality, I'm curious as to whether de Sade would approve of society's current sexual revolution? He is often quoted encouraging his fellow Libertines to flourish in their carnal relations. In his dedication in Philosophy in the Bedroom he writes to them:

Voluptuaries of all ages, of every sex, it is to you only that I offer this work; nourish yourselves upon its principles: they favor your passions, and these passions, whereof coldly insipid moralists put you in fear, are naught but the means Nature employs to bring man to the ends she prescribes to him; hearken only to these delicious Promptings, for no voice save that of the passions can conduct you
to happiness.

Lewd women, let the voluptuous Saint-Ange be your model; after her example, be heedless of all that contradicts pleasure's divine laws, by which all her life she was enchained.

You young maidens, too long constrained by a fanciful Virtue's absurd and dangerous bonds and by those of a disgusting religion, imitate the fiery Eugénie; be as quick as she to destroy, to spurn all those ridiculous precepts inculcated in you by imbecile parents.

And you, amiable debauchees, you who since youth have known no limits but those of your desires and who have been governed by your caprices alone, study the cynical Dolmancé, proceed like him and go as far as he if you too would travel the length of those flowered ways your lechery prepares for you; in Dolmancé's academy be at last convinced it is only by exploring and enlarging the sphere of his tastes and whims, it is only by sacrificing everything to the senses' pleasure that this individual, who never asked to be cast into this universe of woe, that this poor creature who goes under the name of Man, may be able to sow a smattering of roses atop the thorny path of life.

It leaves one questioning if The Marquis' outlook holds validity. After all, he lived until the ripe old age of seventy-four, before antibiotics. Ans it's worthy of mention, that being incarcerated roughly 43% of those seventy-four years did nothing to hinder the aristocrat from getting laid, up until his death.

If all rumors in The Marquis de Sade's history are to be believed, it is safe to conclude that the nature of his fetishes were on the extreme level of the BDSM scale--even by today's standards. One could speculate that the century he lived in made his life style choices considerably more difficult. If he were alive today, finding a willing partner would be much less difficult, and he would likely remain unincarcerated. Permitting he kept his distance from the under-aged.

Returning back to the question at hand: What would The Marquis de Sade think? Would he even care? Call me a cynic, but he is dead. The pleasure's of the flesh are inconsequential to him...Or was he enough of a revolutionary he would applaud our lascivious ways?

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Neandersexual vs Metrosexual

As a personal preference, I would pick the former every time.

While I most definitely insist on a clean mate--neat fingernails, brushed teeth, et cetera, et cetera--I have no desire for a partner who could be deemed prettier than moi. Or, one who would dare intrude on my mirror space.

It’s not out of a want to disregard anyone’s taste--alright maybe a bit-- that I’m spending a considerably worrisome amount of time trying to figure out what could possibly be the appeal of a male who shapes his eyebrows better than I? The only conclusion that I've been able to device is they may make for a fun date to take to the day spa, but I would much rather take a gaggle of friends, where we would discuss the gentleman and voice important concerns--like the size of the bulge in his pants.

The relationship would play out in a predictable manner: Future fights about face lotions and other various beauty products will make friends uncomfortable on game night. Soon you’ll be accusing him of stealing your shaving cream. He’ll end it when you fail to notice his new outfit. His parting words: “You don’t make me feel sexy anymore.”

The strain would be too much for any woman to handle.

Karma can be a merciless bitch

Through Google News, I stumbled upon an article about twenty-four year old, Samuel Wanjiru--the first Kenyon Olympic marathon gold medalist--who apparently has made the tragic mistake of making the plung to his own death. One speculation over his mysterious death was that after being caught in bed, by his wife, with another woman, he made the jump himself. Apparently the window was his only means of escape to avoid answering to an irate spouse--the end result being that he will never have to answer for the possible adultery.

Promoting safe sex through ballerinas and ice cream...genius

It's unfortunate the male is wearing more make up than I do--whatever happened to the alpha male. Sadly, they've become a novelty. 

A proper thinking face is important.

I can't stress the importance of a being able to convey a proper expression of thought. Don't ask me why they're important, it's just so. Above, you'll find a perfect specimen of one of the many expressions of concentration in my repertoire. There may be no furrowed brow, but when you take notice to the pursed lips, they leave little doubt I'm thinking on something of great importance. The eyes will tell you that I've been interrupted from my thoughts and none to pleased by it.

Last night I had a terrible time falling asleep. I think it had something to do with my excitement over watching the new Glee this morning during my morning workout—those singing teenagers never fail and giving me the warm and fuzzies.

On a parting note, it is now ten and I'm ready to put a dent in my WIP. That, my friends, is what the dictionaries like to call sweet progress.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Book release for my fellow RD, Annie Nicholas.

The Beta


Genre: Erotica/Paranormal
Digital ISBN: 9781616502126
Length: Novella
Digital Publication Date: May 16, 2011
Cover art by Renee Rocco
Formats: .epub, .lit, .pdf, .prc (Kindle and Mobi)

Series: The Vanguards Book 3

Three days of hell, in charge, and running out of antacids.

As the pack’s Beta, Robert needs to watch over the Vasi werewolf pack for a few days. He hates the responsibility, but his job is to dissolve any problems while his alpha honeymoons. Nevertheless, trouble comes to town and her name is Esther. She's beguiling, beautiful and picks his pocket. Although Robert doesn’t trust her, he still wants to possess her.

Esther arrived in Chicago with the intention of slaying a vampire named Daedalus. While trailing her quarry, she encounters Robert who unhinges her world. He doesn’t know her trade, and she doesn’t know his connection to the vampire. Disturbed by her attraction to this unusual werewolf, she can’t decide which prey to hunt. The one who’s stolen her heart or the one who’ll fill her bank account.

Hot graphic werewolf sex, growing body parts, and one pissed off Nosferatu.

Written by: Annie Nicholas



My debauchery

I’m not an individual who is fond of, or looks kindly upon, stealing from another. Nor do I share the outlook of one who believes that large corporations won’t notice the loss if they spare some of their merchandise/product with little ol’ me. Earning what you have is an admirable quality and should be represented as such.

With my outlook on the subject clearly painted--that I do not condone the act of theft--there are a few things in which I can’t keep my sticky fingers from pilfering. From hotels, I often find myself walking away with ash trays (though I no longer smoke), robes, stationary, tissue, and if I’m feeling particularly sinful, the spare blanket and/or pillow provided. At restaurants, I take an opportunity to stock up on chopsticks, napkins, and packaged condiments. Auto traders and free literature provided at small markets are a favorite of mine, and virgins are caught unawares as I snatch their virtues from them.

I'm not sorry, but did think it fair to warn the virgins.

My procrastinating ways

I've decided that I have become a most accomplished procrastinator, hiding my wicked ways with tasks that mask what some would call a flaw, and I would argue to be an addition to a wonderfully flavored personality. Regardless, I understand that the earlier I start writing the more I'll be able to accomplish.

Each evening I have a little chat with myself insisting that the next day I'll begin working on my WIP before lunch. It is a sad confession I make, that each day I fail and my writing does not begin until about noon thirty. On a good day.

I've always lacked, somewhat, of the concept of time, but it's not as if I'm dragging my feet about it. There are legitimate obstacles and essential routines needed to reach the necessary frame of mind for a productive day. Prime example: caffeine. The elixir ensures sanity for most of the adult population. I take my daily dosage in either coffee or a tea. Missing of said dose can cause catastrophic results, the likes glimpsed only at the last week of every month. While doing what I must to save humanity from my wrath I like to do some morning reading as well. So what if this may cause me to take a little more time, it's relaxing and leaves me feeling content. No one wants to deal with a grumpy Emma.

The next can easily be blamed on the Surgeon General, who insists that a regular work-out routine is essential for healthy life style. So there goes another hour, after all, a frumpy Emma, makes for a grumpy Emma, and we've already established no one wants to tangle with that. Showering is next on my lax schedule, which takes up another thirty to forty-five minutes of my morning. It's usually a little before noon when I sit in front of my net-book and then the World Wide Web releases it's siren call to me. I deny all blame for what that slutty asexual tempter/temptress does to me.

I don't know what to do, but I refuse to wake up earlier to perform my morning routine.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Call For Submission: Silver Slippers

Sharing is caring.


SILVER SLIPPERS are erotic fantasies spun from the fairy tales we heard at our parents’ knee.

Elves, goblins, Princes, Princesses, evil Kings and Queens, giants, gnomes, Fairy Godmothers…

Have your own spin on one of the Fairy Tale Classics?
A naughty stepsister trying to steal your prince?
A seamstress who has a one-night stand with a nameless stranger?
Perhaps a meddling Godmother who is determined to help you find a mate?

We’re looking for tales that make you laugh, make you sigh, and best of all, make you hot!

As always, we ask that each story end with a HEA (Happily Ever After) or HFN (Happy For Now) but the key pieces being plot-driven, strong paranormal fantasy worlds built with hot, sexy romances.

All stories will be published as single titles under the SILVER SLIPPERS theme.

Ø Submissions are open to all authors currently published with Liquid Silver books and those wishing to be published with Liquid Silver Books.
Ø All works can be new material. Previously published works or works currently part of a series will not be considered.
Ø All submissions must be exclusive to Liquid Silver Books; if we decline your submission; you are free to submit elsewhere.

Submission requirements:
ü Full manuscript in Arial, 12pt saved as RTF.
ü Length: 15k – 80K
ü Genre: Paranormal Fantasy Erotic Romances featuring Fairy Tale themes specifically

Heat Level:
Ø Open to all our current heat levels – Sterling, Liquid and Molten. Please refer to our submission guidelines for further information.

Ø Deadline: September 1, 2011

To submit, please send manuscript via email to with CALL FOR SUBMISSION: SILVER SLIPPERS in the subject line.

Include your author bio on the first page of your manuscript, attach the MS and a one page snapshot synopsis with your email.

I look forward to reading your submissions!

If you have any questions, please feel free to email me directly –

*permission to forward*

A quick introduction

I go by Emma. Emma Claw. For those who are new associates, welcome and hello! A quick fact about moi: The written word, coupled with imagination, to make their fiction love child, warms the cockles of my soul. Ta ta.