chicks that chuckle

Life is rated X. It is not rated R." (Ice-T)

If we can’t laugh at each other, then whom can we laugh at? Send me your questions so we can all chortle up a storm. C’mon people, as Woody Allen said, “Life is full of misery and pain and it all ends too quickly.” Ask Mz. Conduct at: guttergrl69.hotmail.com and if you’re all so damn appreciative, chip in at Pay Pal (paypal.com with same email address) to help Mz. Conduct avoid pushing a shopping cart, full of her belongings and the dogs, down by the river!

One afternoon, as I trotted my healthy package into the Rose City post office, I saw a tall, cutie-pie-and-a-half who was yakking on his cell phone. He had bundles of large envelopes under his arm and was pacing around the lobby, obviously in deep discussion with whomever was on the other end of the phone. I kept stealing little glances, as he was extremely edible looking and, on the fourteenth glance, I happily noticed that it was my all-time favorite local comedian! Wow, Dwight Slade right there in the post office. I wondered if he was gathering new material, as it was certainly a motley crew of folks who stood in the non-moving line that day. I tossed my letters down the chute, then wrote on the back of my business card, “You’re the funniest man in town. Perhaps you’ll find my column amusing!” He was still on his cell phone, so I clandestinely slipped my card to him and smiled as he looked up, grinning back. A few days later he emailed me, and said he found my column ‘not just amusing but intoxicating’. Whoa daddy, I thought, I’d like to lick his stamp and go postal with this guy. He invited me to be a guest at his next comedy show, which I attended. I was thrilled to get a special comfy chair, unlike the rest of the crowd’s, and then to my surprise, voila! a sapphire martini showed up, with three olives of course, courtesy of Mr. Slade. Now that’s just what a girl like me needs to start the lubrication process on any given evening! Mister Comedian Extraordinaire went into his hilarious routine about getting a super-charged, triple caf, ultra-whammo espresso and then stalled in freeway traffic for hours, at the butt-crack of dawn. I almost peed my non-existent panties when he went into a rant about being stuck behind the yuppie family driving their SUV on the way to the outlet mall. The family was driving a ripping forty-five miles per hour in their swanky vehicle, complete with perfectly coiffed children with names like Forrest and Sunburst. Dwight Slade (www.dwightslade.com) is a funny, animated and talented man (and don’t forget to drool for!) I see big things to come for him (and maybe his big thing will come for me, honey!)

A few nights later, the Lion King, his beautiful tulip of a girlfriend, the Yum Yum Boy and I, all attended a fabulous fetish party. I was in black vinyl from head to toe, black feather boa and gloves to match. I was named the ‘eye candy’ of the evening... but of course daahling! I also had a dashing gentleman approach me, kiss my hand and tell me I was gorgeous, which was absolutely delightful, but another drunken slob felt compelled to drape his sleazy, beer soaked bones all over me, slobbering such indecencies as “Oh, you’re Mz. Conduct and I’d like to misconduct myself all over you!” To my rescue, the Yum Yum Boy had the insipid inebriate tossed right out of the party. Quite satisfying, I must say. The party held spanking fests on one stage; a girl with an ass the size of Kansas, was getting walloped by a slim, hairy man in a lime green speedo. A pretty woman was doing body painting downstairs next to the table full of snacks, and wild screams were coming from the Pleasure Room, a red-curtained makeshift area in one corner of the church. I dragged all of my cohorts into the PR and we ended up performing quite a saucy little show for the onlookers. My vinyl came off, the boys’ leather pants came down, skirts were hiked up, smooth mounds were exposed and boa feathers were flying everywhere. We heard lots of moaning around us and had fun with it, swilling red wine and snacking on each other. Boy breath on boy appendage and the crack of a gloved hand on my ample behind. A dollop of girl mouth on girl flesh and the sweet-as-honey ooze of approval. The next morning, with slutty snickering, I surprisingly pulled a simple boa feather out of the Yum Yum Boy’s nether regions! Now being of Dutch decent, that’s what I call a delicious buffet in the Netherlands, honey! Another smaller stage area had giant velvet pillows thrown over it and what looked to be an extremely flexible man, lying on his back -- or shoulders at this point -- with his feet over his head and his own long erection in his own wide mouth. Hmmm... now, this was cause for further investigation. I watched eagerly from a corner, and not too surprisingly, found myself to be moister than a snack cake. Okay, this brings me to one of the questions I received recently:

Dear Mz. Conduct,

Is it strange for a straight guy to want to be able to suck his own dick?

Wanting My Own Wand

Dear WMOW,

Holy straws in a screwdriver, no! I don’t think this has anything to do with one’s gender preference, as we’re all very interested (if not obsessed) with our own genitalia. I’m of the belief that if we were all as ultra-flexible as the bloke I saw at the party was, we’d never leave the house! It may seem a bit freakish, and unfortunately even if I were Gumby on crack, I couldn’t establish such a feat, but for me to watch such a thing is definitely a major turn-on. If you master the technique, send me a picture, baby!



A round-assed boytoy and I celebrated Elvis Presley’s birthday at the appropriately kitschy Lo Brow Lounge. We sat at a tiny table right beneath a giant blue neon martini glass. The eerie glow of the neon hit our faces like a stage light. I plugged the jukebox and chose some Elvis tunes, while we tossed back different drinks, as we didn’t know what Elvis really drank. We figured he pretty much consumed everything, which is what we ended up doing that night as well. In mid-swill I felt a tap on my waist and turned to see a friend’s husband holding a half-empty beer glass. He was accompanied by of his co-workers and apparently had been in more bars than one this evening. This guy is a doll, and I imagine a wicked little fuck, I’ll give him that. Needless to say, I’ve let my sordid little mind wander there on more than a few occasions. So, he stood smirking at me, his hand never left my waist, and he barely acknowledged my boytoy, whom I immediately introduced. Now, I know that he loves his wife, my friend, and I also know that I could have taken him into the bathroom and rode him ‘til the cows came home, but I pulled his hand off my waist and asked him to tell his wife, my friend, to call me soon. That seemed to sober him up and he went back to his buddies at the table across the room. So, here’s another question that pertains;

Dear Mz. Conduct,

Well, I am no sex freak, but I figured you, of all people, would have some insight into my issue. I had been hanging out with this woman, we spent a few weeks together but she had a boyfriend. Now, one day we got drunk at her house when she grabbed me and stuck her tongue in my mouth. I became extremely aroused and it showed; however, I pulled away. Her boyfriend was on the way over. Was I stupid for retreating or was that retarded of me for not going for it? There was another day when we were in her car and I could have become affectionate, but once again, I did not make a move. For future reference, I want to know if I should avoid this type of game or should I relax and go for it. What do you think? What is her game? Should I avoid these types of women in the future?

Yours Truly,

Too Sensitive

Dear TS,

Honey, the grass is always greener because that’s where the septic tank is! We all have desires and we all want what we don’t have... at least some of the time. Monogamy is only a choice, not a design of human nature, and a lot of us struggle through the in-between. You should think about the worth of the romp at hand, little man. It may be rockin’, it may blow your feeble mind, but is it really worth the complications that most likely will occur when someone is being a big, fat, flirty sneak? As you can tell, I have issues with sneakiness! If a person wants to see other people, then just say it, don’t try to sample the salami around town and then swear that you’re true . In my estimation, sneaky people are subhuman scum and, with any luck, will become a bad smell in the basement one day soon. We can so easily put our brain (remove plastic first) in a microwave in exchange for a couple of hours of exchanging bodily fluids. Sure, it’s difficult and sometimes people make mistakes. Then they choose to work through them or not. We have so many choices. Think of the consequences of your actions and then make your own decision.

I think you were right to avoid any further involvement with the slutty strumpet and should steer clear of this woman altogether. She knows you’re interested, she knows you want her, but let her know that until she is boyfriend-free, you’re off-limits. In the meantime, ask yourself this: would you truly want a girl like her anyway? Whatever you decide, you may indeed find some integrity when you remove your brain from the microwave.

© All rights reserved Kim Alvarez