Naughty Teacher, Teacher Erotica

Dear Sillies,

It's September, and we know what that means...

Dubai or Not Dubai?

Dear Sillies,

D'you buy Dubai? Don't buy this Dubai, because it's not Dubai. 

These cones filled with nutty milk chocolate are sweet and tasty, crunchy too, but...ya need to eat more than one at a time because they are tiny. Moreover, this "Dubai chocolate" is Belgian chocolate from Turkey. Um, I don't know how Belgian chocolate got to Turkey in order to be used to produce Dubai chocolate to be purchased by a chocaholic turkey like me. 

Don't buy Dubai. It's not Dubai! I give this a 3 for false advertising but I take blame for...wanting to try "Dubai chocolate." Has anyone tried the real Dubai chocolate? Do tell.

Keep a smile and a stash of chocolate. 

Be well and be loved, my dears.  

Happy Sextilis! Martha Celebrates National Underwear Day

  My Dear Sillies,   

    May this find  you well. August was never my favorite. However...

From Wikipedia: August was originally named Sextilis in Latin because it was the sixth month in the original ten-month Roman calendar under Romulus in 753 BC. SEXTILIS!? Happy *smirk and childish expressions* Sextilis, my friends! 

August 5 is National Underwear Day!

In honor of National Underwear Day, nationwide events have encouraged the 80% of us who've worn the same style of underwear our whole lives*  to try something new. Here's how Martha Stewart celebrates the occasion:

In spite of this image, be well and stay sexy, friends. Apologies.

One Love in Jamaica

Dearest Sillies, 
It's so hot that I'm sharing one of my favorite scenarios from Woman on the Verge. This was 20 years ago. I've held onto an actual photo of "Omar"; I don't remember his real name. "Omar," if you see this, call me, babe. Wink. P.S. Don't worry. My forehead healed fine. xoxo

Stay hot and cool, my dears.

   Upon returning from his third exquisite dive off the cliffs of Negril that afternoon, the man halted nearby. I gazed at him. I couldn’t help it. He appeared a delicious chunk of dark chocolate sculptured by Michelangelo, radiating sun rays from the most intimate of crevices and dressed in spandex for public enticement. 

   “Hi. I’m Omar,” he extended a hand.
   “I, hi” -whoa- “I’m Robyn.”
   “Come with me.” Like a puppy in heat, I pranced behind. Focused on the subtle shifting of his tight buttocks, I followed Omar down a metal ladder leading to an underwater cave. There, an active and chilly ocean sheltered by dark stone walls opened to a glorious backdrop of skies streaked with fading yellows, oranges and reds.
   “No husband or boyfriend?”
   “No I’m done with that craziness.”
   “Do you make them crazy?” he teased.
   Probably. “Oh no. They were already crazy.” Maybe?
   I inched closer to him. As the sun relaxed in the distance, Omar’s tasty lips met mine. Incredible. But...
   Rough waters abruptly tossed me back towards the cave’s walls. My forehead smashed against sharp rock, inciting a shrill of pain. I mean, I was perfectly fine.
   He giggled then motioned for me to follow him back up the ladder. On dry land, reggae tunes blasted from a mid-sized boombox. Omar and his equally scrumptious diver friend danced with me. I boogied on top of the world, fully appreciating how Stella got her groove.
   My time with Omar ended on a promise to meet at Margaritaville the next night. Date night arrived. Omar did not. I instead found myself stuck dancing to endless repetitions of “One Love” with a dude so doped up he could hardly keep his eyes open.
  

Summerotica, Bernie Forever

Dear Sillies,

Summer's here. Do you like the season? Dread it? Both or neither?
It's my favorite, despite the unbearable Chico heat. Any excuse for ice cream or fro yo. Yippee!

May Pope Francis be resting in peace and honored that I've brought him back via Summerotica. 

Pope Leo has yet to agree to another photo shoot with me. His security mentioned something about my ignoring a Restraining Order. I can't imagine what the Vatican guards are referencing. Strange. 

Anyway, stay cool, my Sillies. Also please get and stay hot as appropriate or inappropriate, to a pleasant extent. Wink.

Enjoy.

Announcing My New Love! Pope Leo XIV

Happy June, Dear Sillies!

Have you seen the latest tabloids? Yeah, have a new love! Truth be told, the Vatican warned me that should I continue my antics, they'll file a restraining order against me, but Pope Leo XIV is just so adorable. And he's 69. *Giggle, snort.* What a sweetheart. I know he loves me and everyone, but mostly me. Don't we look cozy together? Sigh.

Psst, ignore Martha. She's just jealous.

Chocolates by Megan, Chocolate Taste Testing

Hi My Dear Sillies,

It's time for more chocolate. When is it not?

I met this lovely woman at our Saturday Farmer's Market. Megan makes remarkably tasty and artistically divine forms of chocolate - in a healthy way and catered to your individual needs. There's no refined sugar. Maple syrup is healthier and - heck - yummier. But she'll substitute that for mango or date sugars (even healthier!), or whatever you request. Megan doesn't temper her chocolate, so you appreciate its rich essence immediately. You can practically taste the chocolate upon first sniff. 

You can find and follow chocolates.by.megan on Instagram or Facebook (unsolicited endorsement. She's worthy!)

I sampled this pistachio bar, which has a lovely green ice creamy inside. Mmm. Divine. My only minor critique is that it's a bit too salty on the outside for me. But I'm a sweet, not salty gal. 

I give it a 9+ out of 10.

What treats have been on your plate or palate as of late?

Keep it silly, my dears. Keep it silly.

Much love!

May Day Erotica, Oh So Risqué

My Dearest Sillies,

I've missed you. We've missed the Pope. Pope Francis, what an awesome blessing to this world! I mean, I showed you photos of us, so I had to tell you that. I do believe he's very much here in spirit, though he misses this Jewish woman --I mean, the earthly realm--too.

Otherwise, May crept up on us. Thus, I've been rushing to get this finalized, collaged, and posted while it's still May Day (May 1st). Do you know what that means? Well, whether you do or not, you know that I'll tell ya (with apologies if needed and love always)...

Springtime Erotica

Hi Dear Sillies,

I'd lost faith for moments and days, yet Spring finally showed up in beautiful ways. How about for you? Hope so. 

Please enjoy this seasonal shift and perhaps some harmless sinfulness. Wink.    

Love you, my Silliest of Sillies. 

St. Patrick's Erotica

Hi Dear Sillies,

It's time I wish you the best of luck. We could all use some, right? May you find it when it's least expected and thus most appreciated. Happy Saint Patrick's Day - Month!

Love you.

Fun with Canadian Border Security, Some March Madness

Hi Dear Sillies,

Happy March! 

Life in the bigger picture is too much, so we need to have a bit of fun when possible.

I'd sent the lovely, hilarious Birgit her winning package, but it's been chillax-ing at the Canada-US border, likely mere miles from Birgit's reach. See, I'd received a call from Customs, stating that I must hire a broker (say what?) to have the goods released. Irritated and perplexed - you know me - I made this known.

Amid my fury I thought to ask: "Is this because of our new government?" The very polite, clearly Canadian Border Security officer replied: "good question, and others have asked this too." Aha. This feisty gal changed her tone, apologized for being contentious and for all the other bleep going on because of our bleepin bleep and bleepidy bleep bleep. I was careful to neither curse nor say "bleep," though.

Still, Birgit's winning package remains at the border. There are more steps. I was instructed to complete a form to allow the FedEx Trade Network to release said package. Done. I then needed to submit a statement with tracking number, total cost, and an explanation of said package. Done. They certainly didn't need this fleshed out explanation, yet I'm honest. They've been polite. Here's what I stated, after providing the basic information:

More specifically: Recipient, Birgit B. in Ontario, is the winner of a contest that I facilitated at my blog, Life by Chocolate see Rawknrobyn@blogspot.com. Due to my venom towards the US's commercial Valentine's Day-Hallmark-Hershey industry, and my typical status as an empowered yet sexually frustrated single woman, I facilitate an annual Valentine's Day Hatefest contest. The winner gets a sweet package. This year's winning entry was: "Roses are pink. Who cares? You're a soul sucking fink." She received the most votes for this, at 2 versus 1 for the other entries. 

  Thank you and warm regards,

  Robyn Alana Engel

Birgit, I hope they like your rhyme as much as I do!

I also hope this explanation will suffice. Fingers crossed.

Birgit's the WINNER!!

Dear Sillies,

Excuse the delay. My staff and crew decided to send your ballots to Florida, and I just got the final count. They said there were too many hanging chads and dangling particles, limp Larry's too. This confused them. But Janie Junebug (the smart person in that state) straightened things out. Thanks, JJ. 

Your submissions were perfectly hateful for this day of loving.

And the winner is:

 Birgit 

Roses are pink

Who cares! You're a soul sucking fink.

CONGRATULATIONS, Birgit!

Please message me at Rawknrobyn @ aol.com to claim your sweet treat package.

Happy Chocolate Day, everyone.

I love you, my Sillies.

VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! Election's on for the Valentine's Hatefest Slogan!

Dear Sillies,

Polling will be open until closed. How's that for a fair election? Felines are allowed to vote. Single cat ladies too! 

So, my friends, please vote for your favorite Valentine's Hatefest slogan from the following, one that's not your own submission. 

Candidates and their entries are listed in the order in which they were received. 

Thanks in advance for participating in your civic duty.  

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Alex J. Cavanaugh

You just suck!

Mike  You can't buy love... hey, wait!

 

Joanne You are not worth a cheap crappy melted Hershey Kiss.

 

Debbie D.  "One day in February isn't special, but YOU are!"

 

Birgit 

Roses are pink

Who cares! You're a soul sucking fink.

Debra She Who Seeks

"No more effen glass slippers!"

 

Her Royal Highness

I catfish U.

U catfish me.

True ♥︎ Romance!

February and My Annual Anti-Valentine's Day Contest

Dear Sillies,

February's here. My dear loyals know what this means. Yep, we love to hate the Valentine's Hallmark Hershey commercial and all-out nauseating complex for singles everywhere, because that's exactly what we need, an added complex. Yeesh!

This year's challenge is to keep it short. Submit an anti-Valentine's Day slogan in 10 or fewer words. You'll vote on the winner. I'll decide from there. (I might need to consult with HRH.) See in the past, you've been so generous as to forgo the prize because you felt undeserving or won previously...So I'll figure out an appropriate means to pay tribute to the most loving hateful submission/s.

And, go...

Courage and Dr. Martin Luther King

Dear Sillies,

Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and that's all. Right? Nothing else's happening today. Nothing worthy of note. (But why, friends, why are people shocked that Snoop Dogg is performing? When did Snoop convey an Eagle Scout vibe?) 

Anyway, let's remember the heroism of this remarkable man whose actions and courage transcend space and time. It's imperative that we continue the fight for equal treatment for all humankind. 

Sometime in the 1990s, I sat in a big auditorium listening to a moving speech by Coretta Scott King, Martin Luther King's then widow. I couldn't have felt more directly connected to the Reverend's teachings.

Coretta would pass in 2006, outliving King by 38 years.

As overwhelmingly distressful as things may seem now, there's always reason for hope. 

A hopeful, brave week to you!

Courage

Extending the dance 

When you’ve long lost your groove
Swimming to shore too frail to move.

Stepping towards light, when darkness abounds
Permitting a laugh amid no other sounds.

Confronting a beast no one should endure
It strikes with no warning, no reprieve and no cure.
 

Snuggling with hope, when the pain you can’t bare
Unveiling your heart in the face of despair.

Conveying a smile, when you’d much rather cry
Speaking the truth though it’s safer to lie.

Taking a stance, when integrity’s lost
Forcing what’s right in spite of the cost.  

Holding to faith in your value and worth
Maintaining a grace that softens the earth.  

Passing with ease
As you air your last breath
A hero whose soul
Transcends life

and death.

                           

                                     by me, Robyn Alana Engel

California Wildfires and Now

My Dear Silly, Caring Dears,

How are you? Please be be safe and able to smile. 

I'm fine, as are my loved ones in L.A. They're inhaling toxic air, of course. Some areas in which I used to work or play, and scores of homes, were completely charred. Lives lost. It's beyond imaginable. Right? I don't think I'll begin to absorb the devastation until I'm next in Los Angeles. 

What can we do but hunker down, appreciate our blessings, offer assistance when we're ready and able, share love and healing vibes? Afterall, the only thing we can count on is the present moment. 

That said, I'd written Now in 2012 for my first book, Just the Right Time. A dear friend, Dee Dee Vest, had long ago asked for some of my poetry to perhaps turn into song. As a surprise that brought me to tears, she sang this* publicly on the very same day that I'd learned about the Bidwell Mansion Fire. Thus, my words revisited me in magical form, when I sorely needed the message. 

*Sorry if you can't view this because you're not on Facebook. I wish I knew how to share it a different way. (Ugh, I dislike supporting Z-berg's empire.)

The very lovely, talented, and kind Robin Mead provided her stunning artwork for that book. Here's Now.