Lucy Blake's Weblog

Flat Lucy… I said FLAT not FAT!

Helloooo everyone!

Well lots is happening – so much so it’s all scatter bug in my head. I have 1 week to go tomorrow in my straight job and then my contract is up and the missions is finished. I’ve had loads of straight jobs because I flit from one place to the next on 6 – 12 month contracts to get a mission done and then I leave. I’ve never had a straight job where I have witnessed as much achieved as in this one. I’m most impressed with what we’ve done.

Miss Georgia is coming to visit on Saturday for 5 whole days in Brisbane to finish her part of the straight job mission off and I’m very excited (Miss Georgia is very clever and has certain straight job skills that come in sooo handy all the time for the kind of stuff I do in my straight job, so we work together lots in straight job land). The bugger is she makes me sit in silence while we sit at this stupid table in my house and work.

I don’t sit up at the table well because my legs can never find anywhere to live. It’s why I rarely do dinner bookings – my legs get that frustrated trying to be still, they knock tables over and then my hands get nervous waiting for the table to be knocked over so they knock all of the glasses over and the cutlery off the table. Then while freaking out about the fact your legs are going to stuff everything up which is then going to make your hands create catastrophes, that I forget how to be a fantasy, so I order for me and the boy I’m with (boys hate it when you’re all bolshie and do the ordering), I can’t giggle when I’m suppose to and intelligent lady like conversation never occurs to me. If it wasn’t for the fact I was at a table, I’m sure I could make the fact someone ordered snappper a fascinating and hilarious conversation. Yup sitting at a table is one big constipation for me.

I’ve been writing and reading this stuff we have to lay out every day for the last 6 months now so I’m well over it, but Georgia makes me do it which is pretty sucky. Sitting at a table at 6am having strawberry pancakes while looking at pics of runny peniiiiiie and pusy bagina’s is a bit stomach turning, but it will be worth it in the end 🙂 Oow oow I have pictures….

Lucy Blake Sydney Escort pancakes

Lucy and Georgia pancake making

I suck at making pancakes so it’s my job to put everything into the bowl and mix it up in the cave and then Georgia cooks because she’s the mummy.

Lucy Blake Sydney Escorts pancakes

Lucy and Georgia's pancakes

Mine is the nice neat pancakes on the left, Georgia’s is the messy pile of baby moosh on the right – totally grosses me out and offends my Princess sensibilities to see her moosh all of her pancakes up. It’s gross like when she does that triple jointed tongue thing – gives me the bloody horrors it does, boys would love it but. Strangely enough I like pancakes with lemon and icing sugar on them at my house, but love them with strawberries and maple syrup not at my house. At least now we’ve worked out that because the advertising tells us that ice cream is made out of milk, we’ve decided it’s ok to have ice cream for breakfast. That took entire seconds of debate and guilt to come to that decisions!  The best thing I ever did was not care about being a proper normal kind of working lady, so I don’t mind if I’m fat and can eat all the ice cream I like ….. fat butt = big boobs so allllll good! Life is a constant mission to find the goodness and positives in life.

Anyway I’m going to run away. I’m feeling a bit bummed out about my blog at the moment so I don’t really feel like it. I have loads of news, pictures and stuff, but I’m totally blaargh. I might go and be bothered to do my website for a minute or two – maybe I’ll use that now to be me instead of this. Some people have been sending me emails and drew my attention to someone who is skating very close to the line with recreating my blog and now every time I say something, I feel like I sound like someone else. I thought I could change the style of my blog, my mannerisms, my quirk, my content, but I can’t. This blog is the real me (as disturbing and as totally ridiculous approach to doing things as that is), so I can’t really change my blog at all. Feel like my personality has been sucked from me so I have nothing to say 😦 Time to find something new I think.

frcuk. It’s a constant need for reinvention. Words, concepts, mannerisms – it’s bloody exhausting and I don’t know if anyone really appreciates it anyway. Why bother? Oh quick quick someone feel sorry for me lol.

I was going to reinvent as an IGP, but according to the woman who is doing my clinical supervision for me for my straight job, that is a bad thing because its disassociation which means all kinds of things if you’re a sex worker. We won’t go there because it’s waaaay to messier conversation (yuck I think I have to go there tomorrow – is it Wednesday tomorrow? aaargh I don’t wanna go back and see her). Then again who cares about being normal? Think I missed that boat 33 years ago. I should just shove on, buy a few IGP outfits and go hard. I do insanity a little to well.. hmm still have to move in a minute, so could go work in a dungeon and do REAL nuts, or could go back to Sydney and settle into my little hole again, hmmm or could stay in QLD and get a 4 bedroom house (they’re real cheap up here) and go totally nuts with cool adventures I could provide (mental note to one’s self: change the word “adventure” to something else, it’s being borrowed to regularly now). God the luxury of having a house to stick myself, my woofa, a flogging room (I really like flogging), a pole (and no not to peeeeee on), a massage room, a room for dress ups… blimey and to be able to stay in the same house for longer than 12 months… oooow the luxury. I’ve moved every 6 – 12 months for the last 10 years. Sick of moving now. Aaargh gotta get up and vacuum the floor in 4 hours to be ready then off to head fuck chick. Is tomorrow Wednesday? I have to go on Wednesday.

Fruck this blog totally sounded like someone else. God someone give me lots and lots of valium. I need a hooker shot of uppyness. Aaargh I have to pretend to be all bubbly tomorrow – all good but. I’m in the rut but hookers wake up, DISASSOCIATE and get on with it much to my head fuck womans disgust -she says some VERY mean things to me. She sounds like that tarot card reader actually. Meanie.

Anyway bummed so bye bye



9 Comments so far
Leave a comment

Lucy, as usual, your stream of consciousness style of writing has me on the edge ofmy seat… well….on the edge of something!!

You are a breath of fresh air! Keep it up.

Luv xxx

Comment by Ian

Great blog, keep it up!

Comment by Escorts Panama

Lucy lucy come back to Sydney. We love you despite your appalling table manners (despite Georgia comments). Besides, I won’t be in Brissie in the known future but I will be in Sydney. Anyway you are not flat – photos prove this.

Comment by Paul

Copying you would be like faking an orgasm, there’s no point and you only fool the gullible. There can only be one Lucy, I always enjoy your blog – even when you’re not disassociating (which I don’t think you do anyway -but what would I know I haven’t had you on my couch)

Comment by David

I am a wiz with blueberry buttermilk pancakes if that will entice you back to Sydney LOL

Comment by mark

Chester and Georgia vote YES

Comment by Georgia French

Hang on a tick. Does giving up your straight job mean that a return to Sydney is imminent?

Comment by Lem

Hi Lucy,
I know where to go to for pancakes. Always remember Lucy that the sun goes up in the morning and down in the afternoon,plus one foot in front of the other one.
Kind Regards

Comment by Colin

My pancakes might look mooshy gooshy but hey I can sit at a table like a lady and boys DOOOOO like my tongue, even at the dinner table.
Nobody could ever be you because nobody can put in the effort you do with your straight job or your hookering and your superior generosity.
Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and try sleeping at night for once, knowing full well there can only be one IGP.
Love ya guts xxx

Comment by Georgia French

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