What a delicious mind f-ck!

My trip to DC set some delectable new standards in Tabu-licious clientele... some handsome specimens, to be sure, but more enticingly, some brainy/kinky/let me tickle your inner wildchild fellows that never fail to get me going. Yumm, yumm.

Now I have to remove my fingers from that moist little furnace and put them back on the keyboard... at least for as long as it takes me to type this.

Back as soon as I'm done.

Name change: District of Concubines!

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Cunning Linquists on Parade!

THE WASHINGTON POST ASKED READERS TO TAKE ANY WORD FROM THE DICTIONARY, ALTER IT BY ONE LETTER, AND SUPPLY A NEW DEFINITION. HERE ARE THE WINNERS:

(My favorites in blue)

1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
2. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.
3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation : Belief that one will come back to life as a hillbilly.
5. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating.
6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11 . Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
13. Glibido: All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

My own contribution for today:

Reliculous. An individual overly-obsessed with his oral skills.

"My brains could kick her brains' butt."

Except when she's an Ivy League brain! (Score one for Tabu!) Giggle.

Voicemail from a whore?

Someone in Springfield, IL doesn't like me.

Yesterday afternoon, my Tabu phone rang, and as always, I waited for my phone-answering system to prompt the caller for his or her name. When the moment came, a female voice hissed "Dirty whore!"

My, oh, my. A phone call from Dirty Whore. What a very interesting name to bestow upon a daughter.

I let the call go to voicemail, and retrieved the message later in the evening-- very curious to hear what such a colorful caller had to say for herself.

"You look much older than you really are," she spitted. "Actually, you look like a transsexual."

Apparently she ran out of imagination at that point, because the line went dead.

Darling "Dirty," I'm truly sorry that you're upset with me-- for whatever reason. But if you're going to call names, get with the program.

I'm a naughty girl by nature. I'm a swinger by choice. And I'm a hooker with enthusiasm. There's hardly a name in the book I wouldn't answer to proudly.

If you were looking to shame me... well, I don't blush easily. So as one badly aging transsexual to another, let's make a deal.

I won't publish your phone number, which I now have saved.... and maybe you can think a bit more cogently before you let your fingers do the stalking.

OK. Gotta go.

Rule #1: Learn from the movies.

OK, I know you're all thinking that I'm just super hot for those rough-riding Brits like Daniel Craig and Jason Stathan (pictured left), and of course, I plead guilty.

But what you may not know is just how much I model my existence on the fine examples these boys demonstrate for me every time I fast-forward, double-clutch and rewind.

So, with a special red-lipped kiss blown to Frank Martin, the cool-headed and fast-driving hero of the Transporter (1,2 and 3) movies... allow me to pass along the latest epiphany he delivered right to my door.

Rules are sexy.

"What??" you may ask, "Since when is letting other people tell you what to do... sexy?"

Who said anything about other people? I'm talking about the rules you create for yourself... the ones that let you forget about the world's expectations... and let you drive right to your goal.

In every Transporter film, Frank has to educate his ne'er-do-well clients that he operates by very strict rules... guidelines that allow him to navigate the sometimes treacherous curves that underlie his mission to deliver the goods. No one is allowed to break those rules... not even him.

Of course, the movies being what they are-- it's not till someone tweaks the rules that the action really gets started.

Lately I've been thinking that I wouldn't want to live with a such bad boy-- but there's definite pussy appeal in his passion to get the job done.

So what does all this have to do with your vixen Tabu? Or you?

Just one small wish from your big-titted bitch. That I'll soon be opening my door to even more of these complicated, sexy boys who know that the best games are played when everyone follows the rules. Because when fire in the belly meets cool-headed resolve, the results can rev any red-blooded girl's motors.

So if you like to play within- let's say "gentlemen's rules-" you'll find a very willing partner riding shotgun.

Wild, wicked, just-within-the-lines seduction. I've learned something from the movies.

Searching for that perfect new position?

On newsstands now... let Tabu assist you in uncovering the skills you may be overlooking!

This issue, a steal at $350.

Remember-- there's always something big in even the smallest opportunity!

New Year, New Pics, New Website!

What else is new? Hmmm. I still love being that naughty, Ivy League MILF... especially when I'm on my knees in front of a favorite boy, showing off my education!

Would you like a peek at my new home on the web? Check it out and let me know what you think!

www.discovertabu.com

If it gets you in the mood for a little guiltless pleasure... you know what to do.


purring,

Tabu

What's a little Dirty Laundry between Friends? (or, now THAT was a Party!)

Just around Thanksgiving, the questions started to trickle in.

"You guys having a New Year's Eve party again this year?"

"Hey, hope you're doin' the New Year's thing again!"

"Don't forget to invite us!"

So bowing to the not-too-subtle urging of the sweet sixteen (the final number who crammed our play-space with perfumed bodies and cork-popping camaraderie), we anointed the linens, doused the lights, and stacked the playlist with come-hither tunes.

It was Noah's Ark with a spin. Everyone arrived neatly paired, but no-one stayed that way for long. In fact, we might have created some very interesting genetic variations, had someone thought to unravel the double helix of legs and twisted panties.

But priorities being what they were, your hostess (AKA the Vixen Tabu) simply poured fuel on the fire by circulating with bottles of bubbly and disentangling her stilettos when the going got tight.

Midnight came and went with kisses, then more kisses, then the rising heartbeat of newly-minted new year's resolutions... which all seemed to center on the very practical idea of spreading the love.

By now the ottoman was shoved off to the side and the carpet was hidden under a living tapestry of rhythmic movement. The king-size sheet spread under the melee shifted as knees and ankles took on a complex dance. Wet spots- gasp!- spread under trembling fingers, losing their grasp on the champagne flute or other intoxicating geysers....and when the evening turned to dawn, then to noon, even the hardiest of revelers were fighting sleep.

Off to their own beds the partyers trundled, and the sagging SO completed his hostly duty by tossing the sheets, towels and assorted damp playthings into the wash.

It was the next day when I had to giggle. Lifting the clean, damp linens from the washer, I caught a flutter of blue escape into the air; then another. As I bent over to stuff the heavy sheets into the dryer, I licked a finger and caught a fluttering square.

It was the cleanest, most pristine Durex wrapper this vixen has ever seen.

Now when you consider sexiness next to godliness, then sometimes cleanliness must take second place. But I think my laundry proved Woody Allen's famous contention: that sex isn't dirty unless you're doing it right.

Happy New Year.

Holiday treats for two-- me and you!

Fredericks of Hollywood has me dreaming of a red, black and high-heel Christmas this year... so if you have the impulse to treat yourself to the vision of your little vixen in a sexy something...

a gift card to Frederick's would be a wonderful treat to find in my holiday stocking!

http://www.fredericks.com/giftCard2.asp?catalog_name=Holiday2002

Here's to sweet holiday dreams!