Meet the FemiNazis.
That’s going to be the title of my next book, I think.
Let me explain…
I had an email yesterday from a woman who claims to be a “Mistress” and not only does she disagree with virtually everything I have to say about male chastity (she hates men, it seems), but she was telling — yes telling — me to stop sending emails to her “subby”.
I am not making this up.
I haven’t deigned to reply other than through this email (assuming her “subby” is still reading it, and the dried-up, humourless harridan is poking her nose into his inbox), and I certainly haven’t stopped sending him emails.
I wonder if I ought to gift him a copy of Be Careful What You Wish For just for fun?
Other than that (which I actually find rather amusing, if a little sad for the poor man on the wrong end of her insecurity), things are fine at the Jameson Ranch (some of you have been asking, because I’ve been quiet). We’re just busy with a big client-event coming up, and John is up to his neck in things.
But the good news is, because so many of you have asked for the newsletter again, and asked so persistently, I’ll be resurrecting in the form of regular and frequent email tips. Most will be short like this one; others might be longer.
It all depends on what takes my fancy.
And right now… that’s Himself. He’s having a nap and I’m going to go and wake him up as only I know how.