Lady P - April 2021
Greetings and salutations my ravishing readers!
I am honoured and thrilled to be the travel correspondent for the global phenomenon that is emmaheaven.com. My name is Lady Perdita Fitzwilliam Tudor-Croft, Perdy to friends, Ditsy D to family and Dirty Dita to my unsavoury exes, but you can all call me Lady P.
My darling ravishing readers - life has been uber-hectic these last few weeks, and one’s time has been completely monopolised by the ‘Dickies’.
Unfortunately, we have had to bring a halt to any further nominations as we don’t have the (wo)manpower to keep up with all the weird, wacky, and wonderful submissions. It has been quite mind blowing - and the only thing being blown around here, I hasten to add - at the staggering amount of chaps who wish to show off their little (and large) chaps, in their FULL, close up and personal, technicolour (morning?) glory!
As revealed last month, one is the toast of the town amongst my gal pals. And once the news about my latest ‘venture’ filtered out and about courtesy of the VIP grapevine, one also received some rather touching messages from the male species.
They were effusive in their thanks, for so generously giving them such a platform to perform on, and to showcase their god-given ‘talents’. This has led to some rather lucrative offers for them and little ol’ moi, not to mention what it’s done for their self-esteem.
Some were so appreciative of my novel new venture, that our home now resembles an upmarket florist; the fragrance is positively delightful and intoxicating, however Daddy swears - literally and metaphorically - that it’s more like a bloody funeral parlour, and he doesn’t need so many reminders about the place, well not at his advanced age.
Nowadays Daddy and his pals are rather preoccupied with - in the euphemistic words of Shakespeare about death - “which one of us is next to shuffle off this mortal coil?” Tho the way Daddy’s blood pressure is soaring with all this activity accompanied by his splenetic outbursts, he reckons it may be bloody sooner rather than later. Bless him. He can be such a cantankerous, lovable fossil at times!
Anyway, I digress…
Back to the marvellous messages I’ve been getting.
First up was Tarquin. For privacy and legal reasons I will not be using any surnames. Daddy has (not so) politely reminded me to keep my indiscreet trap shut before the lawyers need to be called in, yet again, to clear up another one of my mishaps.
Tho not entirely content with that little pep talk about legalities, and warming to his theme of verbally roasting me, he decreed for the umpteenth time that ‘women should be seen and not heard’, nor interrupt grown up men’s talk. I sweetly reminded him that not only was he a raging misogynistic dinosaur, but an ignorant ageist one at that. That particular saying was about children, NOT women!
Not surprisingly, it descended into an ugly shouting match, with much hurtful name calling. He ended his diatribe by muttering “useless, spoilt bloody brat” under his breath. Not being anyone’s whipping post (well um, ahem actually, it has been known…no, Dita, no. Not now. Zip it!), I was NOT going to be spoken to like that.
I yelled back that he was an ancient relic, but of no use NOR ornament! I flounced out of his study, slamming the door with such force, that a painting dislodged from the wall, smashing its delicate antique frame to smithereens. Cue an even bigger screaming fit from Daddy, who by now was incandescent and purple-faced with rage, bellowing that the money to restore it would “come out of your bloody allowance you bloody hooligan”.
Phew...what a kerfuffle! Anyhow I digress. Yet again.
Now where were we? Ah yes. Back to the lovely Tarquin. He sent THE most touching message of thanks for the triple star rating he received. After casting one’s mind back, aided and abetted by a darn good filing system, one revisited Tarquin’s entry - sent with his approval, by a highly appreciative ex of his, whom he’s still on excellent terms with - one could only concur with the glowing evaluation he had received. If I could have given him an extra star, I would have!
Turns out that this much-needed boost to his ego has also led to a sizable boost in his finances. That ringing endorsement and feedback was all he needed to ‘launch his lap rocket’ into the virtual stratosphere…He’s since set up a highly successful and lucrative OnlyFans account, and the darling chap has even offered me a modest commission akin to a finder’s fee!
And Tarquin’s not the only one to get in touch about his experiences. Countless chaps - Adonises and ‘Dad bods’ alike - have declared that they no longer feel objectified by women blah, blah, blah... they now feel empowered by showing off their bodies, and have taken back control.
My oh my - how times have changed! The male species is becoming quite needy with their hankering for validation. It can be quite exhausting. However, if one is helping stroke their fragile egos, amongst other things, then so be it....
Alas not all messages have been quite so perky and positive, in fact some have been downright aggressive or rude. One which immediately springs to mind is a message from, let’s call him Rupert. He wasted no time letting us know how deplorable we were for judging chaps by the aesthetics of their ‘tallywackers’ - his words not mine.
After letting the little keyboard warrior have his rant and rave, to get it off his chest, one did reply, saying that having gone back and taken another look at his ‘tallywacker’, one had come to the conclusion that it was ‘subpar’ with no distinguishing features whatsoever, and one wouldn’t be able pick it out of a police lineup if one’s (love) life depended on it!
But more to the point, if he took such exception to being objectified, why on earth had he sent us a pic of his d*ck in the first place? Or was he a masochist with exhibitionist and trolling tendencies?!?
Now THAT really wound him up. The silly sausage did try to threaten legal action. What kind of action I do not know, as his photo only showed a close up of his lacklustre love truncheon. No identifying marks so you couldn’t tell who it belonged to, therefore the distressing matter of ‘revenge porn’ was entirely out of the question.
We had proof of his consent, as is insisted upon by our platform, at the point of submitting his entry, with all the necessary caveats and disclaimers. Thankfully we have a friend who is THE most excellent legal beagle, and incidentally a fellow ‘Dickies’ judge, to thank for that little nugget of advice.
‘Rupert’ had given his blessing and express permission for his ‘joystick’ to be judged. He backed down pretty sharpish when we sent him a screenshot of his permission to critique his unappealing appendage. This was a huge relief, as I didn’t want to enrage Daddy or escalate his blood pressure any further.
Catastrophe averted!
So for now my wonderful readers, it’s time to bid you adieu as one has a Zoom call with a rather famous publisher who thinks I have the talent, wit, contacts, and inside information to create the world’s next best-selling erotic fiction book! Move over Jackie Collins and 50 Shades...Lady P is about to take the throne and be crowned the new queen of the ‘bonkbusters’!
One will fill you in on ALL the juicy details next month. Stop salivating at the back there! ALL will be revealed in good time...
Toodlepip,
xx
**Note to Team Heaven gals**
Lorks - what a month it’s been. Don’t know about you ladies, but I’m having serious trouble making eye contact, especially with members of the opposite sex…
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