Cocaine and Hot Lesbian Sex

ANJ: Did you cum in her ass?

JOE: It's been so many years since I've done it that I don't remember

ANJ: Do you wanna do it again? Do you wanna go upstairs right now and have anal sex? If I said, "Do you wanna go upstairs right now and have anal sex?" would you say yes?

Other topics include:

- Cocaine and Hot Lesbian Sex
- Anjelika doesn't try coke
- Free Cocaine on the NHS
- Anal Sex
- Lesbian Sex

Thoughts about the Writers Strike

I’m a writer.

I’m not a member of the Writer’s Guild of America, although I have several scripts stored at the WGA East.

I like that the WGA is trying to put the writers’ best interest at heart.

Let met tell you a bit of my story. I’ve been trying to break into the business since 1996. I’ve been to film school. Some of the people I graduated with are now very successful writers and producers in Hollywood. I don’t begrudge them one bit. I’ve had some minor successes, but as it stands I’m not a Hollywood writer. Nor have I sold my screenplay.

I would give my right arm, my first born, my little doggie and I would go without sex for the foreseeable future all for a shot to write for a TV show. Yes, I want it that badly. So when I see the striking writers claim that they are not being treated fairly, keep in mind that I would take their job heartbeat. And I would not complain about it. In fact I would work twice as hard for even half the money.

The writers should realize that they are in an exclusive ‘club’ that is overwhelming male (and white). This is a club that is not exactly rolling out the red carpet for new members. Ask any would-be writer how easy it is to get your union card?

As I understand it, the chief complaint amongst the writers is that they are not being compensated for online downloads. To a certain degree I can sympathize, but listen, we’re not talking people in bad working conditions. We’re not talking about coal miners working their fingers to the bone. We’re not talking about sweatshops and seamstresses in horrid unclean, unkempt working conditions. We’re not even talking about individuals earning minimum wage. This strike is about wealthy people wanting more wealth. End of.

In that respect I find it extremely difficult to empathize with a group of people who are already extraordinarily privileged. Sure they’re not making as much as the show producers, but they’re all making more than I am!

For every union member, there are ten of us wannabes breathing down their necks. As it stands, I don’t think the writers have a bad deal. It’s just that the producers and networks have it so much better.

If these writers want to be as privileged as the producers, then maybe they should consider going into producing.

Now if you’d like me to write for your TV show, by all means contact my agent Isabel Atherton at Limelight Management.

Oral Sex and Menstruation

Click Here to listen.

JOE: Are you inhibited by sex during your period?

ANJ: Uh, Yeah!

JOE: They have that name for that. Earning your "Red Wings."

ANJ: There are times when you're just in the mood for oral and if you're bleeding from your pussy it's reason enough not to have someone licking there.

In this podcast Joe and Anjelika Chat about:

- PMS / PMT
- Cunnilingus during menstruation
- Menstruation
- Girls Aloud
- The Spice Girls
- Feeling down
- Asshole tax
- Fight club

Click Here to listen.

Ugh

Just got back from seeing Motorhead in concert.

What a dire experience.

How Long Have You Been Single?

Click here to listen

- Heather Mills & Paul McCartney
- Domestic Violence
- Pub Quiz
- Should you marry someone for a visa?
- Holding out for love
- Anjelika's lesbian date
- Satin Sheets and Asthma
- How Long Have You Been Single?
- "You Oughta Know" Alanis Morissette
- The X-Factor

WANDA: Once I've cum, if they guy keeps going it becomes painful. The orgasm can't get any bigger

ANJ: I think I know what you mean. After my big orgasm, then I'm like that

Click here to listen

Casting Agent Dude

Casting Agent Dude

Friday was an easy day at work. Two meetings before 12 noon. I answered e-mails for a couple hours then at 2PM I was taken out to lunch by a casting agent who wants the job of finding talent for the next season/series of the show I’m working on. It’s all early days though so who knows if his company will get job. I was just in it for the free sushi lunch. Yum. Keep the shashimi rolling.

Casting Agent Dude was a half hour late. He was totally wired when he arrived. He was all over the place. He wasn’t able to focus on a single idea so luckily we got the business part out of the way first. We spent the rest of our 2-hour lunch gossiping about celebs (no one on his books though).

We went back to the production office where I introduced him to a few of my colleagues..

It was the last day of work for one of my bosses. Coincidentally, Casting Agent Dude knew this boss of mine. Said boss invited Casting Agent Dude to his leaving party.

Roll on 6PM, party at some swank restaurant / pub near Piccadilly Circus. Since the event was “corporate optional” most of my work colleagues were there. I’m sure the free bar helped retain the numbers. I had 1-2-3-4-5 count ‘em Marguritas. So by the end of the night I found myself flirting shamelessly with Casting Agent Dude.

He offered me some gak. I said no. But then I thought, why the hell am I saying no? It’s not as if Nancy Reagan is inside my head feeding me answers.

“Actually, yeah, I’ll have some. I’ve ever tried it before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, never. I’ve never been offered it.”

“I’m offering now. But it’s your first time, you don’t want this shit. This isn’t good shit.”

“Okay,” I said sounding somewhat confused, “Um let me know when you have some good stuff.”

“Cool,” he said and sauntered off to the bathroom.

I left the club shortly after that.

I'll Drink to That...

I'll Drink to That...

I only drink when there’s at least a 20 percent chance that I’m going to get laid that night. Otherwise what’s the point? I don’t really like alcohol. And if alcohol didn’t facilitate getting laid I would give it up all together. Alternatively, if there’s a 100 percent chance I’m going to get laid there’s no point in drinking either.

Thursday, for example. No alcohol, 100% orgasm. Stan came over at 7:30. I was still in my work clothes but luckily I wore a low-cut top to work.

After a quick drink of water we headed to the bedroom. I took off my tank top and trousers. I stood before Stan in my matching pink Victoria’s secret bra and panties. He looked up and down my body. He was fully clothed. I climbed on top of him, rubbing my naked pussy against his jean. I could feel his cock bulging from underneath. We continued our dry humping for a bit.

“I think you should move that,” he said pointing to my pussy, “up here.” He pointed to his mouth.

“No,” I demanded. I want to be on my back.

I rolled on back. He rolled on his stomach. He lowered his head down to my nether regions and began licking my clit. The licking felt good, but it felt even better when he inserted a finger. He had very good fingering skills.

After a small orgasm, he rolled over on his back, I rolled on top of him. I pulled down his trousers, then pants and rubbed my bare pussy against his cock. Felt so good. I came again just from that.

I gave him a hand job, but my hand got tired so he had to finish himself off.

I went to bed feeling somewhat satiated, but wanting more

168 Hours and counting

168 Hours and Counting

There is nothing as horribly unsatisfying as the state of being horny. This is a state I’ve been in for the past 168 hours.

Of course, there is the old stand-by of masturbation to help “cure” it. But even Green Day noted, “When masturbation’s lost its fun you’re fucking breaking.”

I went to bed horny. I woke up horny. I traveled to work on the DLR and read the Metro horny. This is madness. I can’t remember a time when I’ve had sex on the brain so much.

Thankfully, work pulled me out of my randy stupor. I, along with the rest of my team are working on producing the new series of a reality TV show. The amount of work that this show creates for me is almost insurmountable. God, even the word, “mountable” makes me feel horny.

I had planned on going to the gym after work, but I ended up staying an hour late. I was awaiting a courier delivery of art and graphics for the new tv show. The courier was late, so I missed the gym completely. I finally left the office at 7:45 to meet the Ex for dinner. Never mind that I was due to meet him on Old Street at 7:45.

As I left the office building I noticed Tall Jake waiting outside the lobby chatting on his mobile. He mouthed, “Hi Anjelika.” I gave a quick wave and scurried away.

Tall Jake, if you remember was bloke from work who flirted shameless with me, only to reveal at the end of the night he had girlfriend. There should be a name for guys like that. I’m going to coin a term right here and now. He’s a FAKE SINGLETION. An FS. Eff-ess, or maybe even F-ass.

Spotting F-ass didn’t really catch me by surprise. It was forth time in two weeks that I’ve seen him waiting outside the office. He doesn’t work here anymore so I’ve been able to deduce that either he has a drinking buddy here or he’s dating someone here.

I’m going to guess that he’s dating someone here. He mentioned, when I spoke with him last week, how he was going to dinner. He didn’t say with whom (v v annoying). If he is dating someone here, why not just come out and say it? Why hide behind that fact? Why tell me that he’s waiting for ‘a friend’ if the real answer is that he’s dating Kelly in accounting (or whoever). There’s something shady about him that rubs me the wrong way.

I met the Ex at the Reliance on Old Street. He’s concerned about his expanding waistline so he’s decided to cut out beer and only drink cider. A move that I’m totally convinced of. After a couple drinks we went for Vietnamese food on Kingsland Road.

Whilst we were waiting for our food to arrive a Pussycat Doll’s song came on. Being the music snob that he is, the Ex groaned.

I smiled, “This song was playing in the mini cab on the night of my first date with the BFE. I remember listening to it on the way to meeting him and being so excited about our date.”

“Oh really?” the Ex asked, not terribly interested.

I recanted the whole story of the first date I had with the BFE to my Ex. I realized that as I was telling the story, I was so happy and animated. In telling the Ex about the BFE I was re-living that first date. I was remembering fond memories.

And after all the bad shit that went down between the BFE and me, it’s good to know that some warm memories do exist.

The Law of Diminishing Returns

The Law of Diminishing Returns

The law of diminishing returns is an archetypal economic theory that pronounces that as more investment is made, the overall return on that investment declines at an increasing rate.

In relationship terms: The thrills and butterflies you get from a certain person decreases the more that you’re in contact with them.

In Anjelika terms: Each time I see the B.A.T.H. (Boy Across The Hall) he’s less cute than the time I’ve seen him before. The first time I saw him, holy he was hot stuff, but now when I look at him I think, ‘How did I ever think he was cute?’

There is some part of him that at its very core is endearing and cute, but it never matches the first time that I saw him. It’s like when you kiss someone for the very first time. That’s the best kiss ever. No kiss ever measures up to the first kiss. No kiss ever holds the importance, memory, or passion of that first lip lock. Sure, they’ll be plenty of plenty of kisses in-between, but as the law of diminishing returns state, the high that you feel from the first kiss will decrease with each succeeding kiss.

Over the past two months I’ve had more contact with the B.A.T.H. True, from an appearance standpoint he’s not at hot as when I first saw him. What I’ve found, however, is that the more I get to know him, the more I realize I quite like him.

What I know about the B.A.T.H. :

• He’s 6’2”


• He might have a girlfriend.


• He works for a charity.


• He has a brother who sometimes stays overnight.


• He leaves for work at 9:15 AM.


• He smokes, but not inside his apartment.


• He knows my name, but I don’t know his.

I know it’s bad business to shag your neighbor (especially if you own) but he’s definitely one guy I’d like to get to know, much, much better.

Hot Holiday Sex

In this podcast Wanda and Anjelika Chat about:

- Wanda's holiday romance
- Religion and inter-faith marriage
- Holidays
- Jean-Paul Gautlier
- Big Cocks
- Hot holiday sex

WANDA: He got his cock out and it was enormous and I just thought I had to-

ANJ: You had to! When you see a cock that big you can't let it go!

Most Downloaded Naive London Girl Podcasts

1. Sex and New York City
2. Anal Chat with Wanda
3. Masturbation or Dirty Hair
4. Tasting your own Juices
5. 3 on a Bed: Drunk in NYC
6. A Saturday Without Panties part 1
7. Better to Give than Receive
8. Crusty Cock, Cunnilingus and Bare-Ass Exhibitioism on Oxford Street
9. Net Sex with Mucky Sarah and Iain Lee
10. A Saturday Without Panties part 2

Je T'aime Moi Non Plus

Je T'aime, the Mucky Sarah version.

Duet with Igor:
Check out Igor's Page
http://www.igormontenegro.co.uk/

I know I can't sing, but I had a really fun time recording this.


or download this MP3

Sex and Sensibility

In this podcast Wanda and Anjelika Chat about:

- Wanda's Holiday
- The Elephant in the Room
- Fall out and Anjelika's (lack of) sensitivity
- Hate Mail

WANDA: Anjelika, do you like me enough to shag me?

[silence]

ANJELIKA: No offense, Wanda...

WANDA: I'm beautiful! I'm big and beautiful! What are you saying?