Jingle Belles

The solstice is upon us, Santa hits the chimney in a couple of nights, and that last candle on the menorah needs a light. As if that’s not enough, the powers that be have snuck yet another holiday upon us with today’s Global Orgasm Celebration.

You may ask: how will Jefferson participate in this cosmic orgy?

Don’t ask.

I’ve got no time for the Big O. I’m already up to my eyeballs in family.

This morning my ex father in law woke early—being older and perpetually jet lagged, he never misses the dawn—and broke my coffee pot. The boys were with their mother last night, so Granddad proposed to escort Lillie to school as a special treat. Lillie refused to go without me—as you can imagine, those retarded girls can be a handful—so off we all went.

Now I’m barely fueled on a single cup of store-bought joe and making a list of last minute gifts that need to be procured. I need to buy books and music for my ex family, mostly people I haven’t spoken with since the last time I bought them books and music.

Fucking eXmas.

In about twenty-four hours, I’ll jump offline and dive into the icy waters of Christmas with Lucy.

Oh, how I wish I would get a booty call today. Someone ringing with the offer of tall bourbon, a long, slow blowjob and a bottom that needs a sound spanking. I’d be more than glad to fuck a fresh tear into this annual excuse for the New Agers to get laid.

Alas, I’ll have to take a rain check.

Luckily, my inbox is jingling with belles.

Here’s a nice present from Marie, who regularly shares her many gifts at Viewing Pleasures .



Thanks, Marie. I feel better all ready.

Marie’s a bold one. I’m also touched that a shy reader came forward with her forays into sexy self-portraiture.



Where’s the holiday theme, you ask? What, you didn’t notice the green panties?



Thanks, pretty girl, for sharing.

Now, can I get a refill on this coffee?

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