October 04, 2005

Anti-Leeching Software Gone Terribly Awry

Be suspicious of anything that works perfectly - it's probably because two errors are canceling each other out. ~ Dave Bartley

Okay, so obviously if you're seeing my anti-leeching message plugged into place for every image on my site that isn't the presentation I was planning. This programming stuff is tricky business.

I've since removed the anti-leeching files while I examine them for covert nanobots set on "destroy website." I'll also try and evaluate what possible flaw in my code caused them to go haywire.

If you're using Firefox or a reasonable browswer, hold down the SHIFT key while reloading and the correct images should refresh into place. If you're using IE, you'll have to clear your cache before you can see my sites back to normal.

Technology is a drippy little twat that needs to see the back of my hand.

*grrr*

Inner Geek | Internal Combustion by Doxy at 04:13 PM | permalink | talkback (1)

May 15, 2005

Comments

Comments are free but facts are sacred. ~ Charles Prestwich Scott

Buckling under peer pressure, I'm going to try an experiment and take away the typekey registration requirement to comment here on the blog. It really isn't about being an elitist and I don't mind if I get many comments or no comments at all (my overstuffed, unanswerable inbox assures me I'm being read). However, I know that phone sex industry comment spammers have soaking wet panties at the idea of getting a link on my site and, of course, the nasties are ever-lurking.

But, fuck it. Maybe it won't be near the problem I worried it would be. Let's find out. Comment Nazi disengaged. Have at thee.

Internal Combustion by Doxy at 08:38 AM | permalink | talkback (0)

Phone Sex Slut Diary...Blog...Diary...BLOG

Choke me in the shallow waters
Before I get too deep
What I am is what I am
Are you what you are or what?
~ Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians, "What I Am"

A lot of fans/friends/clients/total strangers have written me in confusion regarding the fact that I have both the Diary and the Blog. It’s confusing and stubborn to keep it this way and I’ve decided to retire the Diary.

Initially, the concept was that Blog would be here for my day-to-day rambling thoughts and the Diary would remain the place where I would deliver industry information and resources. The Diary by itself had grown a little stagnant for me; there was no real personal part of myself within it. It was the “all business” me and I wanted to evolve beyond that boundary and show that a phone sex slut is more than a moan-on-demand fantasy beck-and-call-girl. Yes, I’m a woman who talks on the phone with men about sex, but I also like foreign films and science fiction novels and cheesy television programs and most things Disney and quite a bit of other silly errata. I thought if I presented a more rounded picture of myself, it would humanize both me and my industry instead leaning on the “sex worker” mystique that simply must wear thin after a while.

What’s resulted is that I put off updating the Diary and focus exclusively on the Blog. So all the phone sex industry information that I would ordinarily share, is withheld on the pretense that it’ll go in the Diary. And what results is a Phone Slut Blog with no sex or phone sex information and a Phone Slut Diary that isn’t being updated. Which is amusing right now, but needs to stop before it becomes a sad state of affairs.

Phone Slut Diary will remain as-is with archives intact. The phone sex resource pages and phone slut worker / phone sex john information will keep their URLs as they are. The erotic stories and free erotic art galleries will stay, too. At least until such time as I do a re-vamp which isn’t being planned anytime soon. The phone sex marketing pages will most certainly remain as they are. But the “most recent” Diary entry will mirror this Blog entry and refer readers to the Blog portion of the site. I’m going to be meshing phone sex resources in with the other stuff I’ve been blathering about, which means a new category or two here at the blog and less work-safe entries (not that were you looking at my site at work what with the bright pink frame and "SLUT" in big graphics all over the place).

And, to those who've been worried, don't fret, I’m going to be sharing more of my naughty thoughts. Part of the purpose of this site will still be to promote myself and my services, but I’m not apologizing for that. Hopefully, that purpose will be tempered with the rest of the matter that stews in my noodle.

I'd like to thank you all for bearing with me despite the fact that it took me a few months to figure out what the fuck I was doing with this new endeavor. The kind words have meant a lot as I move on with this strange project that started on a whim and progressed into a unique opportunity I’m now addicted to.

Internal Combustion by Doxy at 08:07 AM | permalink | talkback (1)

February 26, 2005

She Ain't Heavy, She's My Diary

A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double. ~ Toni Morrison

Of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer. ~ Louise Glück

I have issues with people who blog about blogging. Which is a trifle silly, being as blogging is about your life and the activities within that human subset. Naturally, given that blogging is one of those actions, you may, from time to time want to rant/talk/rhapsodize about it. But it gets all space-time-continuum on me. Like standing between two mirrors and looking to the side to glimpse the infinite reincarnations of yourself. A little narcissistic and dizzying.

But it occurs to me that while I'm still tinkering with the style sheet and trying out colors (yes, I picked these colors ON PURPOSE -- some colors were rejected and went away bitter) and agonizing over layout quirks I might want to explain why I am going to maintain both a Diary and a Blog. At least in theory.

Short answer: I'm too stubborn to give up Diary. Long answer isn't that simple (thus, it is the long answer).

Yes, I have an affection for Diary. In fact, when I started out Diary was php and used dynamic software (its software was intended for use with news sites, but that's neither here nor there). It just didn't work for me. From a business standpoint, straight HTML reads better in search engines. From a me standpoint, I could control every aspect of the html: I understood it and could manipulate it as I wished. I didn't ever have to rely on someone else for aid. But now, updating Diary is a hassle in comparison to dynamic blog software. And so, I've carved out this space -- for my day to day silliness. I can post pics or rant about politics, or flitter about the weather and it is nearly effortless. Besides, it will keep me off message boards were trouble breeds.

But I can't just do the same thing to Diary. First of all, many people have linked to individual entries and it feels disingenuous to change it all now. Second, well, the search engine benefits still apply business-wise. And, lastly, I just *want* it there. I want it to be hard work to update it. To be a deliberate act; my personal little ritual. To be there when I have something more to say than just the banter that pops into my head. Something I needed to stew over and delve into more deeply. And I'd like to keep the industry stuff over there instead of here. Sort of like separating my work space from my personal space. Though, let's face it, we all know I'm going to overlap. The tracks of my various trains of thought criss-cross diabolically, which is why there are so many collisions.

Who knows. Maybe I'll fall in love with straight-up blogging and retire the Diary. Or maybe it'll just be one more duality in a life already flush with dualities.

Anyway, I thought if I'm going to give this space its due, I needed to explain to it what made it different from its older sibling. Hopefully, it'll cut down on the hair-pulling.

Idle Prattle | Internal Combustion by Doxy at 04:49 PM | permalink | talkback (1)

February 23, 2005

I haven't fought a windmill in a fortnight

A little gossip, a little chat A little idle talk of this and that... ~ Joe Darion

Finally! A place to spew my daily insanity and dust out the bric-a-brac of my noggin.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Idle Prattle | Internal Combustion by Doxy at 06:44 PM | permalink | talkback (1)

December 03, 2004

Upon Further Review: Holiday Spirits All Around

You ever get something off your chest and immediately feel better about it?

This is the benefit of having a blog – even one updated as rarely as mine. You bitch, you feel a bit better, mission accomplished. The bottom line, I suppose, is that I don’t know what the next four years will mean domestically. I don’t know how far this push on behalf of the religious right is going to test our civil rights and our sexual freedoms. I do know that they’re fighting against progress and if history teaches us anything, it’s that fighting social evolution is a losing battle. I’m not giving up any of my rights, or those of others quietly. And I will not tolerate it without making a little rumble of my own. All the FCC fines in the world won’t change the fact that we have advanced in our social behavior from the 1950s and trying to turn back the dial is dangerous and impracticable. So, you know, hope springs eternal and all that. If you feel like I do, join the ACLU. Write your congressperson. Don’t sit quietly and politely when someone chips away at things you hold dear. We’ve all been tolerating too long. Agreeing to disagree. It doesn’t work. Those of us that have the decency to live and let live have been losing ground to those who want to dictate morality. We’ve got some catching up to do. It’s easy to effect change by censoring and suing and fining. The hard work involves processes like education, treatment, communication. Yeah. It’s going to be an interesting four years. We’ve got our work cut out.

But for now, enough of that. I’m not Wonkette. My politics are personal and hardly the main thrust of my life. I’m just a phone sex slut, and what’s a phone sex slut going to do? Mope all thru December? Na.

Okay. So it’s the start of December. Salt over my shoulder. Black cats off my porch. Joy juju and happy thoughts engaged. I’ve decided to make an effort to get into the swing of the holidays. I’m flighty like that. Woman’s prerogative. Besides, it’s no fun being Ebenezer Scrooge. Sure, it’s been a wickedly twisted year. Between hurricanes and election results a little jingling of bells here and there is definitely due.

As I sort of muttered at the end of Tuesday’s entry, I’ve vented some of my frustrations in writing An XXXmas Karol. It’s sarcasm-laced political farce and full-fledged Daddy’s girl incest all rolled into one. Beat that with a stick.

For those of you looking for other holiday erotica there is my delightfully warped and somewhat cruel Boxing Day tale as well as a few selections on Satin Slippers that are top-notch. These include the roguishly semi-non-consent of Karl’s The Man With The Bag, Circe’s rompishly wicked non-consent Bringing Down Santa, and Kerrie O’Keefe’s sentimentally sweet The Nice Older Man. Hopefully there’s something there to offend and titillate everyone.

And, hey, what’s up with there being no Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or Winter Solstice smut stories?

Oh. That reminds me. Yes, I decorate my site for Christmas, but that’s because it’s the flavor of holiday I celebrate this time of year. Please don’t waste time being offended or feeling left out if your culture isn’t represented by my sluttly little site. I just feel it’s hypocritical to try and be all-encompassing. You attempt to please everyone and you end up with hot water instead of soup (anyone else remember that story?). I’m not a Hanukkah girl (although I have friends that let me eat their food -- soofganiot and latkas are nummy). So, you know, it would feel white-bread offensive to toss a few dreidels here and there just for show. /political correctness disclaimer.

Speaking of the decor, some of you may have noticed the succulent window dressing draped on the home page and the logo area of PSD. My Doxy Toons are provided courtesy of Sinai Tendergal. I’m setting up a page for anyone else that might be looking for a little Custom Comix of their own, although to be honest I’d rather keep her all to myself.

Oh, and speaking of art: I WANT I WANT I WANT!

Jack Henslee has managed to get his print gallery back online for Christmas after payment problems earlier in the year forced him to shut down for a while (Do we hate PayPal? Oh, yes we DO!). And there is some major new eye candy to make us cream. I know many of you enjoy his pretty ladies and will likely buy for yourselves and loved ones. Anyone *ahem* wishing *ahem* to put a little tinsel on my tree can just select one of the below and instruct Jack to ship to Doxy – trust me, he knows the addy.

/end annual shameless pleading for mouthwatering masterpieces.

In other holiday shopping news, I’ve added some new reviews for My Pleasure items including the Micro Rocket and Forbidden Fruit. Because, we all need to buzz the ones we love (and don’t forget to love yourself!) ;-)

*sigh* I want some Farm Stores eggnog. God I miss civilization. Eggnog and homemade snickerdoodles. Ungh.

Okay. No more food fantasy moments. On to phonesex slut movie reviews.

Recently, I bought and watched three different movies based on Koji Suzuki’s book, The Ring. The American film incarnation of The Ring, the Japanese version, Ringu, and the Korean version, The Ring Virus.

I like foreign films. And, unlike other genres, mainstream thrillers in different markets really reflect interesting aspects of their respective cultures. Art films are often about a guise. Thrillers can encompass more nitty gritty everyday matter.

To start with, I re-watched the American version that most are familiar with. I consider it an all-around good film. Creepy in the right places, dreary and somber on the whole for a perfect sense of atmosphere. The jump-out-and-getcha parts were reserved for the right moments. Not quite horror, not quite thriller. Mostly compelling if not completely unique in style. The horse drowning element felt awkward to me and the middle of the movie lagged because of it, especially during some of the “put the pieces of the puzzle together” steps that came off as forced. But, I thought upon this viewing as I had when it first came out, that it pulled off what it attempted to accomplish. The sophistication of the character relationships was its greatest strength. Underplayed and developed at a slow boil.

In contrast, Ringu was the most disappointing of the three for me. The Japanese counterpart of the main female character played by Naiomi Watts in the American version is a very different woman. Reiko Asakawa is more a damsel in distress than a strong, single working mother and hard-edged journalist. Even her beyond-his-years son seems more respected than she does. As such, she comes off as much more dependant upon her ex-husband to walk her through solving the mystery. Apparently, being a smug, superior, absentee father still allows one to be a hero in Japanese cinema. It didn’t work for me. And when this culminated into a scene where the male character had the obligatory slap-the-hysterical-woman sequence I was annoyed out of any enjoyment I’d gleaned from the film. I’m not sure if that’s a statement about the Japanese culture or the lack of understanding toward it on my part, but the dynamic of the main character relationships suffered greatly because of this in my opinion. This version also incorporated the pseudo-science “ESP experiment” subplot that the US version abandoned. To me, I felt the US screenplay was better for getting rid of this clumsy ploy, but it did lose an interesting social element in the process. In the Japanese film, the relationship of man and water (especially the ocean) is far more intimate than the US version. You get a sense that this is a culture with a firm relationship toward the sea. Indeed, it is considered a force all its own to be respected and not toyed with – and there is punishment for taking pleasure in the water. The punishment in this case is a supernatural, arguably malevolent child that is implied to be of demon descent. This parallels the non-supernatural aspect of the story; the child that belongs to the main characters is a punishment of responsibility. However, in weighing the pros and cons of the subtext, I’d have to say that it was worth losing this in order to avoid the cheese factor of the ESP subplot.

The Ring Virus, the Korean take on this story, was surprisingly much more sophisticated than the Japanese version came off (although, as mechanics go, the subtitles were badly translated in areas on my DVD). The main female character, Sun-Ju, has a daughter instead of a son which was a nice twist since there is a very female focus within the story in all incarnations (the main character, the first character to die, the source of the supernatural events, etc). Also, the environment of this film was far more Westernized, which I wasn’t expecting. In one scene, two characters even meet at a McDonalds. Sun-Ju is far more complex than Reiko, but she’s sexually harassed in every aspect of her life. The film starts with her conducting an interview about ancient beliefs on sexuality at an art museum for reasons later explained in the film. Her partner at the newspaper office she works for is a sex-obsessed goofball. Her ex (who is not presented as the father of Sun-Ju’s daughter unless I missed something) is a sexually predatory “I’m so smart everything in life’s a game to me” asshat of the first water. She even has to deal with a creepy run-in with a sexually inappropriate coroner (yes, it’s as twisted as it sounds). All of this together manages to make a statement about the misogynistic slant of sexuality that still prevails in many modern cultures (especially Asian cultures), as well as offer poignant testimony regarding the danger of degrading and closeting those of alternative or minority sexualities (personified by incest and hermaphrodite subplots). Unfortunately, introducing these sexual subplots into the already clumsy mix of supernatural events, renders the overall storyline as overwhelmingly and unnecessarily complicated. On the plus side, this version also preserves the cultural relationship with water. In a choice between this one and the Japanese version, I’d take the Korean flick anytime.

So, if you’re considering placing one of these in the stocking of a movie buff pal, consider Korea’s The Ring Virus in lieu of, or in addition to the much-venerated Ringu. At least that’s my two cents ;-)

I guess that’s all for now. Glad I updated again. Would have hated to leave things on the sour note of my last entry. Ho ho ho and all that jazz.

Blather d'Art | Idle Prattle | Internal Combustion | Naughty Bits | Poli-Sci by Doxy at 02:30 PM | permalink | talkback (0)