As CNN goes, so go we all: The summer of our discontent

No one can claim immunity from the solemn drums of this past week's news... every network anchor has puffed up endlessly with praise for the fallen. Even so, no feeling person could flip merrily through the channels without pausing to reflect, however briefly, 0n the merits of respect and mortality.

But my natural humanity has fallen out of sync with mourning.

As each life has been dispatched according t0 its owner's fame, something's gone missing.

I had no more personal connection than you did, I would guess, to these sadly fallen figures. But I wish for them a more private memorial than Larry King can provide. In the few quiet hours of introspection most of our lives afford, I would like to think that some of us could shed a real, unrehearsed and genuine tear for those we truly mourn.

And then not tell a soul.

Tabu's Tuesday Tutorial: When Mr Softie Strikes!

Performance anxiety. Is there a more dreaded hazard for a hobbyist? If it hasn't happened to you yet, it probably will. Here's how it goes.

You're in the room with the girl of your dreams. You want everything to go perfectly. She's lying before you seductively, her moist lips open, the sweet essence of her secret folds starting to waft ever so subtly into your mind.... and just when everything should be at launch-readiness, the fuse fizzles. She's beckoning you, you glance down nervously to confirm that nothing -- absolutely nothing-- is ready for lift-off and the ensuing moments are the test of anyone's self-confidence and equanimity.

How you handle it can mean the difference between a disaster and a hiccup.

A smart fellow like you doesn't say a word to draw attention to your plight.

"Come here, beautiful," you say."Let me taste that delicacy for a while."

Soon you're losing yourself in the act of pleasing her. As your tongue teases out her creaminess, her moans begin to lengthen, the heat begins to rise.... and the next thing you know, you're feeling that welcome urgency that only the ownership of a hard cock can deliver.

Now it's up to you to take it where you will.

Well, now, class, that wasn't so hard, was it?

Oh, that's right..... it's very hard.

Now go in and play.

Winning hearts and minds

is the start of winning happy repeat visits, I'm finding.

Lately I've had an unusual number of new friends who clearly crave validation for their desires... and for themselves.

Perhaps it's the turbulent times that's manhandling my new friends... and when they come to see me, I understand that words, a smile and a touch can fulfill one very basic need.

My time comes with many small pleasures... and one larger one. Acceptance.

Let's treat each other as if we count. Because we do.

This birthday girl needs to Blow!!

OK, so today is my birthday, and I am so mad.

I had a tooth pulled on Friday afternoon, and the dentist ordered me not to suck ANYthing.

Now, how can I have a fun birthday with a swollen jaw and a big hole (so to speak!)?

I tell you, the gods are laughing today.

pitiful kisses,


Tabu

A tiny little tour to expand my tiny little mind....

Ah, Cambridge, MA... home of MIT, Harvard, Radcliffe, and the dearly remembered and now departed ManRay, the oldest continually-running fetish club in the U.S.

When this Texas girl shook off her southern ways and transplanted herself to Boston, almost 20 years ago, it took a while to thaw the natives out. But once she warmed up the famously icy reserve of the New Englanders, life was interesting, cultured and freaky.

Now, does this 6-year Florida transplant still relish her parka-free winters? And does the home of the lobster roll still call her name?

Yes and yes.

So when I come to make a tiny little dent in the wallets and libidos of my fine Boston boys, think of it this way. I'm just getting a little bit of Boston back in my blood.

It's a fair exchange.

Cambridge, June 14-16.

The lure of eBay.... "Step away from the computer!"

Damn. Lately I'm having real trouble resisting eBay.

It reminds me of the Borg. (Resistance is futile; you will be assimilated!)

The only thing is, if you succumbed to the Borg, at least you had a shot with Seven of Nine.

There's something to be said for that!

From the peanut gallery...

Yesterday, "Teleplay@aol.com" was kind enough to email me the following career advice:


TABU???? MAN THE 80'S ARE GONE...

GO AND CHANGE YOUR HAIR DOOO
YOU ARE SO FUCKING UGLY...

I BETTER PAY 350 TO MY GRANDMOTHER...
RETIRE...GO HOME FUCK...SO PATHETIC


I don't know how I was lucky enough to merit his attention, much less the style and career how-to's.... but I hope his grandmother is happy to get $350!

rolling merrily along,

Tabu

Creamy, willing, thrilling redheaded MILF....

Has your sexual curiosity been honed over years of exploration and practice? Mine has... and I still have so many avenues left to discover with you!

This Sunday-Wednesday... you'll find me downtown in an upscale Chicago hotel. And you'll always find me eager to entertain you like a re-discovered lover.

**RS2K and Date-Check members only**

Please send your info to my email for an appointment.

350/hr...550/90 min...700/2 hrs

You'll never forget Tabu.

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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