Whoever wished that one on me had better watch out, because if I find out who it was, I’m going to stand on their bunions… HARD!

My life over the last six weeks or so has been eventful, to say the least, but it seems to be settling back to something almost recognisable as normal now, which means (fingers crossed) that I can start to catch up on my email. Well, I already have started, but if you’ve been expecting to hear from me and haven’t, feel free to prod me with a reminder.

Having changed my tune and started providing domination as a service, I have to say I’m thoroughly enjoying myself and can’t wait to get in a bit of practice in 2012. Which reminds me.

Naughty flatmate! Belated Merry Xmas and I look forward to giving you a good thrashing in the new year!

In case you hadn’t noticed (Yes you! pay attention at the back!), I’ve had a new field report.  So there you have it. Further proof – if you needed it – that I aten’t dead. Not only that, but that I am a sex goddess and social chameleon *preens*. Oh alright then, no I’m not, but I’m not half bad. In fact, as not bad goes, I’m really rather alright.

Anyhoo…

Interesting times or not, I was alternately amused and irritated to see that the Highland News seem to have appointed themselves the moral guardians of Inverness. Their article on the dating website for married folk who fancy a bit on the side may have been intended to stop such shenanigans, but the cynic in me wonders whether it wasn’t just a sneaky bit of advertising for the “security company” mentioned. Ooh! Yes, we’re all terribly impressed that they’ve just taken on two ex policefolk, but really? You’re going to hunt down all the adulterers who fancy a bit of light entertainment because of the recession? Then what? Burn them at the stake outside the town hall? You’ll just cause a traffic jam and then nobody will be your friend. Or are you planning to tell their unsuspecting partners?

Excuse me Madam, I know you think that you are perfectly content with your life and you have a good relationship with your husband, but I feel the need to inform you that he’s been having it away with her at number seven!

If I’m not mistaken, you can’t just start randomly following people. You’ll end up being sued. People have been having affairs and quick knee tremblers when nobody was looking since time began. Right or wrong, it’s none of your business.

Whether or not the articles in question boosted business for the professional nosey parkers, I’m absolutely certain that they will have resulted in a dramatic leap in membership applications for the no strings sex site. So, yah boo sucks to you!

And just don’t get me started on the letters page where two Inverness residents were allowed to spout homophobic bile to a wide audience… Just don’t!

Or busy Amanda as the case may be. I’m currently all booked up until Tuesday 8th November.
I have had a lot of enquiries about incalls just lately, so just to remind you all. I am not currently able to provide incalls, but I can visit you at your home or hotel, subject to my availability.
I have upgraded my floozy phone to a BlackBerry, so I no longer feel the urge to change my number or ditch the phone completely, thanks to a rather nifty application which blocks calls and texts from blacklisted numbers. I like to think of it as the fuckwit filter or fwf for short. This also means that my phone is switched on more often than it has been in recent months.
Anyway, it’s late and my Horlicks is getting cold, so goodnight people who live in the interweb tubes.

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

Oh woe is me, for that is where I have been. I have had a moderately bad cold a near fatal case of man-flu. I still sound hoarse as hell rather husky and sexy, so I shall make my fortune (obviously) over the next few days by offering “Lauren Bacall phone sex”. Either that or I’ll continue to wander around the house amusing myself by saying things like “In Soviet Russia, kettle boils you”.

I have spent this evening eating (someone else’s) Dairy Milk and drinking hot tea (made by the chocolate owner) whilst looking for a nice chunky knit hooded scarf to snuggle into during the winter months. I was tucked under a duvet in a comfy chair and was ill prepared for the shocking discovery (don’t forget my weakened state) that Urban Outfitters sell one for £250. TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY QUID!! FOR A SCARF! A rather bloody ugly one at that. You could buy a flock of feckin’ sheep to snuggle up to for less than that.

Anyway, none of that is what I planned to tell you. Apart from the fact that I have been clinging desperately to life (did I mention that I’ve not been well?). Which leads me to the fact that I need to catch up with my email. If you think you’re being ignored, worry not. You’ll get a reply over the next day or so. Unless of course you are the chap who emailed me about “doing intercourse and other sex stuff” in which case don’t hold your breath.

Yes really. I have no room to talk, because anyone who knows me will tell you that I amuse myself on a daily basis by making up new words for things and bastardising the words we have been very kindly provided with already, but squonuts? I mean, it’s not as if all other doughnuts are the same shape. We don’t feel the need to call them roundnuts or longnuts, so why bother?

Right, news… What have I got for you…

Well, as you can see. I have

revamped the site. Actually, I’ve done it three times, but just wasn’t happy with it. I know it’s not finished and any escort directory who ditches my listing because their link hasn’t shown for a few days, rather than just reminding me to replace it can kiss my almost geriatric and extremely lily-white butt! Any who show a little patience and consideration will see their banner reappear almost magically (ok, maybe not) over the next few days.

I’m dabbling in  people battering these days as well, in case you’re interested. Well, I shouldn’t really say dabbling. People will think I am clueless and I can assure you, I’ve reddened many a posterior and applied probably hundreds of nipple clamps over the years, just not at work. So if you have an irresistible urge to be spanked/whipped/plugged into the mains by 6’2” of high heeled domme, just give me a call.

Oh yes, and speaking of giving me a call. I will be changing my number soon. I know that I shouldn’t really and that any business guru would jump up and run shrieking from the room at the very idea, but mine is no ordinary business, so I need to shed the fuck-nuggets who have saved my number and send me texts at 6 monthly intervals asking the same questions. The same questions of course include such beauties as:

• Is this Amanda? (Always tempted to send back something along the lines of “No, this is her 6’6” rugby prop forward boyfriend, how may I help you?” I really must learn to behave)
• U r hooker (I assume this is a question despite the lack of question mark, because if it’s a statement, then there really is no hope left for humanity)
• How much 4 a good tym? (RTFW my friend)
• U do anal? (No no no no no no no no no no… getting it yet?)
• Can we fuck in your car? (I get this a lot for some reason)
• Can I see you now? (No, I am currently wearing my cloak of invisibility and anyway,  I require notice for an appointment, so EXPELLIARMUS! Ha!)
• Grump grump moan whinge bitch (cont. page 273)

I have taken to answering the phone with greetings such as “Ross-shire home for pregnant nuns” and “Tart Hut, Amanda speaking. May I take your order please?”. I should probably apologise for that, but I see it as fair warning. If you can’t handle that, you probably don’t want to be left alone with me.

But probably not for long.

Some of you may have noticed that my site was down. It’s back for the moment, but it’ll be getting a complete revamp over the weekend, so it’ll be up and down (like a tart’s knickers?).

You also may have noticed that I’m not working much at the moment, preferring to just meet up with my regular chaps/old friends. This is because I am currently working on another project and there is only so much of me to go around.  So, I apologise if you’ve been trying to get hold of me. My phone is next to useless at the moment, but I will endeavour to answer my email in a timely fashion.

In the meantime, here’s something to tide you over…

Yes I know. I’ve been conspicuous by my absence. Sorry about that. However, I’m still here and as Granny Weatherwax would say, I aten’t dead.

I have moved house and been without broadband. Speaking of which, did you know that if you phone the Priory and tell them that you need help because it’s been two weeks, three days, four hours and twelve minutes without adequate internet access and you need their help, they laugh themselves into a coma? No, neither did I until recently. I don’t know, the quality of care is deplorable these days.

Anyway, I’m here. I’m wading through my collection of unanswered emails and I’ll be updating my site sometime over the next few days. Incidentally, isn’t it just typical that my email had been very quiet in the couple of weeks before I moved, but as soon as I would have trouble answering it, it went mad. If you have sent me an email over the last couple of weeks and not had a reply, please let me know.

I’m currently only available for a limited number of outcalls in the Inverness area, so if that is what you’re after, just let me know and I’ll see what I can do.

Well, I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to take my phone number off of my adultwork profile.
Having endured the last couple of weeks, filled with phone calls which start with “Hi, I seen (sic) your profile on the internet. Can I have a few details?”. I can only assume that the chaps who previously arranged their afternoon liaisons via the Daily Sport have moved onto the interweb. All the details are there! It doesn’t matter whether it’s my adultwork profile or my website. Unless you want to know something very specific, it’s probably there. So, from now on, it will only be the chaps who can use the messaging facility who will be able to contact me.

Anyway, I’m currently sitting outside my Inverness hotel during day two of my special offer, enjoying a well deserved glass of wine. A hotel (incidentally) which considers a pillow stealing 5″ gap at the head of the bed to be just fine and dandy, Ta very much.
I won’t be available at all now until Tuesday. I’m off to play for the weekend. I won’t be good, so don’t bother suggesting it…

Dear reader, do you happen to have a mobile phone with 3 network? If so, have you noticed anything odd about their voicemail?

I rang to retrieve my messages a couple of months ago and was duly informed by the nice robot man, that they had “improved their voicemail service”. Now, you’d think that by this time in my life, I would have run, screaming from the room at the mere hint of something being ‘improved’, but no. I took them at their word and thought no more of it.

Over the last few weeks I have noticed that everyone who got as far as the instruction to leave a message, has abandoned all hope and hung up. I did think it was odd, because although there are plenty of folk who do just that, there are usually at least a handful each week, who bravely soldier on and leave me some indication as to the nature of their call.

Retrieving my messages has gone like this:

Male robot: “You were called today at 20:00 hours, by telephone number 07891011121.

One second of silence

Female robot: To listen to the message again, press 1. To save the message, press 2. To delete the message, press 3

I have been deleting them. No point in keeping blank spaces.

Until the other day…

Instead of pressing 3 for delete, I accidentally pressed 1. At which point, the one second of silence I had previously heard, miraculously transformed into a fully fledged voicemail, with a real person’s voice and everything! Turns out, that’s what I have to do now to hear my messages. I can’t be the only one can I? I haven’t yet found any sign online of people complaining about this, well not on 3UK anyway, although I did find somebody who was complaining of the same problem with a different network in the US.

Anyway. Apologies to those of you who have recently left a message and then heard nothing from me.

Repeat after me: “Technology is your friend, technology is your friend.”

*Sigh*

Well, not all, but enough to make me pace up and down the living room like a caged Tiger.

First of all, I have had a week of phone calls which I cannot answer. Sod’s law is in full force on my phone, which means that it only rings when I am doing something or in the kind of company which precludes answering a floozy-phone (think Bat-phone, but in pink, with sequins and possibly fur). I mean, can you imagine the Vicar’s face? I’m fairly sure that any conversation I might have on there would run the risk of putting him off his tea and scones. Unfortunately, 99% of the callers declined the nice robot’s offer of taking a message, so I can’t call back either. One chap who did leave a message was so drunk that I could only translate one word in five and although he did leave a number for me to call him back, I have no idea what it was.

Secondly, my visit to Inverness will have to be postponed. Something’s come up (no, not like that, you with the one track mind), but I will be there on the 3rd and 4th of November and if I get a chance, I will pop by for a flying visit before then.

In many ways.

Last week I met a lovely new gentleman in Glasgow. I was treated to a fabulous evening which included a delicious dinner at an Italian restaurant and a trip to the theatre to watch Calendar Girls.

Mr J was also kind enough to write me  a field report.

Thank you Mr J. I’m delighted that you enjoyed yourself and I hope to see you again. xx

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