‘Cause if there are, I will give you a free session if you show up in your little meter maid car in your little meter maid outfit. Cap included.

See, I just got a $100 parking ticket for parking… drum roll please… in my drive way. My Drive Way. The drive way that I pay a princely sum of rent for. They said I was blocking the sidewalk. That I need to leave enough room for a wheel chair to get past. A wheel chair. In my neighborhood? Screaming down the hill at Mock Ten maybe. It’s San Francisco. I live on a hill steep enough that the stinking meter maids also give tickets for not curbing your wheels. Often. It’s more likely a chance that a wheel chair would fall from the ever loving sky then a wheel chair would be roaming down the sidewalk in front of my house.

That said, I was in NO WAY blocking this imaginary wheel chair. Not even close. If the imaginary wheel chair was also imaginary blind, it could have easily passed the nose of my car pocking over the edge of the sidewalk.

So meter maids, I hate you. I would love for you to show up in my dungeon wearing your ridiculous little outfit and let me pound the shit out of you. Now normally I would warm up my subbies bum with a nice long flogging before grabbing the cane. But in this case, not only would I want to wear gloves so that my lovely skin wouldn’t come in contact with your nasty meter maid pimply ass, I would prefer not to use my expensive leather floggers on said ass lest your stench never leave the leather. I would prefer to use my delrin cane, no warm up, after spraying your ass with alcohol for a little extra added sting. This caning would continue well after even the most enthusiastic caning bottom would have wanted it to end.

It would make me happy.