Yes, it’s that time of year when the Queen gathers her loyal followers in her court AKA a shmancy hotel, for an exciting business retreat filled with fun, networking, business tools, and… porn.

NOT the kind of porn you’re thinking of, my kind of porn.. which consists of this…

As you know, we ladies of the court all have various diets, which are taken very seriously by the Queen, so when we come to the event we are given lunch tickets with various letters on them to be placed in front of our fine china AKA hotel plates, so we can be served our appropriate lunch. My card says GF. Healer’s hubby wanted to know if that stood for ‘girlfriend,’ he thought he was pretty cute putting on an accent and all, to really hit the ‘girlfriend’ (it’s times like this when I realize this needs to be a podcast). I didn’t want to counter his teasing of my card by pointing out his wife had a big V on her card, which I could have asked him if it stood for Vajooge, but I thought better of it.

But that was not the porn part. The porn part is that I didn’t get a card that said SF or CF (sugar free or caffeine free) so when I arrived at my table, although lunch had NOT YET STARTED… there was a giant double stacked chocolate cookie/brownie thing with powdered sugar on it. I started to hear the music “bowm chicka bowm bowm…” Healer’s Hubby decided he was going to eat his RIGHT NEXT TO ME… the nerve. How dare he eat that soft, fudgy cookie stack with the raspberry plate drizzle right in front of my face.  But then it happened, he took his first bite, I watched with anticipation… and then the sound, “mmmmmm.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, a bit uncomfortable as I’d moved my seat to practically on his lap, and I may have been slightly drooling. “Sorry,” I told him, “But this is like porn for me. Eat another bite.” Healer was very amused and very encouraging, and Healer’s Hubby (who is not a ham at all- sarcastic) put on a show. In the end, as I stared at the few remaining crumbs on the plate.. I wished for a bubble gum cigarette.. and then realized I couldn’t even smoke that because it’s made of sugar.

I got to the Queen’s court early because I was meeting Sassy Skirt, (she doesn’t know this, but with all the time we spent together, every time she walked away, whomever she was talking to would turn to the girl next to her and comment, “I love her skirt!”) So, she will be known as Sassy Skirt until an occasion arises that she gets renamed something juicy (mwhahhh mwhahahah). Sassy Skirt didn’t get her Starbucks this morning because she got locked out of her room, and had to deal with ‘key issues’. Don’t you just hate it when you go to a hotel, and you put your key card in the door and it keeps turning red? You put it in slowly, then quickly then reeeeealy slowly, and then face the fact that you got a faulty key card.

Sassy Skirt travels in style so she took me up to the Concierge Floor so we could get tea and such… and such was all gluten stuff, so I just had tea. But when we arrived to the suite, her key wasn’t working. Someone opened the door and we walked right in. Hmmmm this gives me an idea for crashing Concierge suites in the future. I’m just going to pretend my key card was demagnetized and go in and drink tea.

Later that night, some of the gals where hanging out laughing and being girlie girls, when Sassy Skirt decided to check out this blog, and share it with all the girls in the lounge. Power Princess (also a temporary name) was soooo excited about one of the blog entries that she decided to immediately Tweet it… suddenly realizing it was on Sassy Skirt’s computer. This caused temporary heart failure for everyone as Sassy Skirt, tried desperately to get to Twitter and delete the post. Sassy Skirt’s professional followers would not have been understanding of the “Is Anybody Having Sex Anymore?” post.

I asked the Queen if there was going to be Country Karaoke at Shine in Dallas, and she said no, but then dared me to do a video of Hillbilly Bone… a dare… I take dares very seriously. I just might have to get my Karaoke on…

©2011