Greetings from my yule blog.

Some kind people have noticed I haven't posted much for a month or two. It's an odd thing but when you aren't doing much that's worth writing about you've got loads of time to compose blogs and when you're up to all sorts of blogtastic stuff you are too busy to write them. I've recently been to New York, a trick I achieved through the generosity of Richard Branson in regard to his airline's fares, the 'two dollar pound' and being a dynamic marketing executive's fuck. She was in town to smooooze some clients and I was there to shoppppp! But retail excess is not this blog's territory so let me tell you about a trip we made to an up-market lesbian BSDM club instead.

You have to know a member then ring a number to get the location. A seductive voice also asks you to follow the dress code: fetish or naked. Now this was a problem, because unfortunately I hadn't packed the handcuffs, whip and leather thong that I always take on international trips. On the other hand did I want to flash everything including my cellulite to tanned, toned and cosmetically trimmed New York babes? Nooooo!

The answer was Brit ingenuity. My finger did the walking through the NY phone book, found the place, then we took a cab ride. So on the night two English ladies arrived at the club topless in black jodphurs, rubber riding boots and whips - the girls loved us.

The action was as cosmetically enhanced as the tits and arses on display. Still the other members were cunt-throbbers compared to my visit to a UK BSDM 'dungeon'. Here in chilly, faintly smelly surroundings fat white wobbly women bursting out of basques and thongs whipped fat white wobbly bald men with tattoos - you could believe a human being might have treble bum cheeks!

The NY dikes were so thin but really up for it. My girlfriend was diverted by the bondage whilst I dallied with a tattoed and pierced commodity broker from Soho. I looked in to see g/f bare-arsed naked and a bit 'tied up' so I let the broker handle my assets.

I realise this isn't especially Christmassy. Sorry but you've chosen my 'Dark Places'. Perhaps I could tie it all up by wishing you all a spankingly good Xmas, or mention whipped cream on your Christmas pud. Instead I wish you all a brilliant time and a sex-filled 2005.

Lashings of love Sadie

Things got hot in Brighton last night.

They 'burnt the clocks' on Brighton beach. This is a recently revived ritual in which flaming torches are carried through the streets by flaming drunks and then a huge pile of paper clocks is set alight. It was all curiously sexy. It's apparently to do with druids and the shortest day but this gets all forgotten as the flames leap and the mob gets frenzied. The spirit of Saturnalia overpowers the spirit of Santa Claus and things get pagan. It certainly worked for my girlfriend and I. We rushed back to the flat and made love by candlelight. You may have noticed I wrote 'made love' when I could have used the more f-f-f-familiar expletive. But that's what we did, beginning with a sensual massage, thanks to some sensationally slippery massage oil and a little book we'd bought in New York. Then, we locked and unlocked, explored and experimented, the candlelight glinting off our naked twisting bodies - pure paganism. God it was good!

Merry Saturnalia Sadie