Tag: Amanda

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The top ten things you need to know to stop being a complete sissy bitch.

I have to say that I always try to be positive, and with the exception of when speaking about Amanda, I exercise my mother’s good advice. If you have nothing positive to say, then say nothing. Wise words.

You will understand how writing this piece has been a challenge, and yet one I feel I have to complete. However, after considerable deliberation and talking with both Sylvester and Auntie Kittie, I have put pen  to paper. Auntie Kittie pointed out that sometimes you have to grasp the nettle and say that which needs to be said.

“It’s like that time in South Africa,” said Auntie Kittie, “when I had to tell a trans friend, who was staying at the school out there where I am a school governor, not to sun bathe naked. The grade 9 biology students are confused enough already!”

“No, Kittie,” I replied. “It’s not like that at all, but I still have to write it. There are some members that might need to hear it.”

Continue reading “The top ten things you need to know to stop being a complete sissy bitch.”
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Sylvester is checking out Amanda’s cans.

What a strange day it’s turning out to be. Our members are all out doing wonderful things. Julia in Holland, one of my favorite members in our Whatsapp Group, has been out and bought some beautiful summery things, and nearby I know Lenni is having a garage sale.

Julia has been doing so well. She, like many of my members in the Whatsapp Group, shares some of her experiences and activities with other members of the group. It makes it a very supportive community.

This afternoon a few friends will be stopping by as the isolation period begins to lift. Lockdown here in Canada has been well observed and the results mean we are now able to begin very gradually restarting 2020. I, like most of my friends, feel that having a glass of wine in the garden with one or two friends is much more comfortable than going out to a restaurant, for the time being at least. It also gives us the chance to have a bit of a barbecue in the garden. Sebastian is hoping to treat us to his sausage later on. I am wearing a denim skirt, tee shirt and a lovely floral mask, and keeping things very simple.

Sylvester and Sebastian arrived a little while ago astride his enormous chopper.

Taking off his helmet he said excitedly, “Amanda’s going to drop by later. She wants me to check out her cans.”

“I’m sorry?” I replied a little surprised.

“Her headphones,” he said. “She says they crackle. She wants me to see if I can sort them out. It’s probably just a loose connection. They were very expensive apparently. Mind you that was in 1993. Still, I said I’d check them out.”

“Oh,” I said doubtfully. “I see.”

I have told Sylvester on more than one occasion that Amanda is in a relationship with my neighbour, Marjory the competitive lesbian eater. Or should that be ‘the competitive eating lesbian’. Well, as I’ve mentioned before Marjory is apparently quite a big noise in the world of competitive eating, although like so many sporting disciplines they are experiencing something of a famine this season.

“You should be a little careful,” I said to Sylvester. “Marjory and Amanda are together, as inexplicable as it may be. I’m not sure that you should be hunting in that particular briar patch. You might get pricked.”

“I don’t mean to be pedantic,” said Sebastian cutting in. “But, I’m not sure you can hunt in a brier patch.”

In the interests of contextual accuracy I rephrased my doubts to Sylvester, saying “I’m really not sure you want that bird in your hand. Better to leave it in the bush.”

Sebastian mumbled something about Sylvester having big hands and added that there are plenty more fish in the bush. I decided I should let it slip past. Instead I shot them both a look of disapproval.

“OK,” I said. “Let’s try this again. I don’t think, Sylvester, that you should have your snout in that particular trough.”

I think I may have to go in a moment. Sebastian has just got a call on his cell and let everyone know that Rainbow will be dropping by shortly and wants to show us her jugs.

“She’s only just got them out of the kiln,” he said helpfully. “She want’s to show us her pottery. It’s come on so well recently.”

Have a delightful weekend and if you’re one of my American members have the very best of Independence Days. To all my members, keep it real and stay distanced and masked if you can. 

Fiona

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Be the change you want to see.

Gurls, we’re going into a tough week.  Let’s make sure we show how resilient we all are as we do so. Setting a fabulous example is our challenge for the week.

I know many of my members have had a difficult path to walk in the past. It goes along with this particular journey. In the week ahead there’s a lot of people who are going to be struggling. Our resilience can be a lesson for those who need an example to follow.

As we go into the coming week I want to share something I’ve realised over the years. How much courage you have has nothing to do with what color panties you happen to be wearing. Nor does it have anything to do with what’s between your legs. It’s about having a stout heart and belief in yourself. And it’s more infectious than COVID19. As others see your resilience they too will gain strength.

Practicing social distancing and not succumbing to the fear of what’s ahead is very important at the moment. Don’t let the news drag you down, and stay positive. There’s a wealth of fun things to occupy you on https://fionadobson.com This is also a great time to be using the time available for planning what happens next. How will you change?

Putting on a smile and some fresh panties is going to be what keeps us moving ahead for the moment.  

I’d love it if you can show those around you how strong you are by keeping a positive face on.

As my wife’s appalling friend Amanda said recently, “We must be the change we wish to see in the world! You know who said that?”

“I think it was Ghandi,” I replied.

“General Paton! That’s who said that! So… there you go.”

“Well,” I replied. “They were so very similar. But I will keep that in mind,” I assured her.

Stay safe,

Fiona

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Finding you in good health.

I put my own success and good health down to my adherence to a strict and healthy diet. In Canada we have a wonderful chain of health food stores, called ‘Tim Hortons’. Where ever you roam in this great land you’re never far from a healthy nutritious snack. In fact, I think it fair to say Tim Hortons has become a Canadian institution as identifiable as our polite nature, love of hockey and insistence that we elect a Prime Minister that doesn’t have a serious personality disorder.

As you may know, my wife, Amanda and our neighbour Marjory, are traveling on an ornithological tour of Western Europe.

Amanda, my wife’s appalling friend, has come down with a severe case of Canestin poisoning,  which I understand is rare but not unknown in menopausal lesbians. I hasten to point out that I do not subscribe to Sylvester’s view that when lesbians are exposed to large amounts of oestrogen they run a severe risk of having their ovaries explode. Sylvester somehow equates this to the idea that ‘males have to masturbate at least once a day, or else their testicles burst into flame.’

In my kitchen with Sylvester, Bernard and Max, my neighbours son, I poured the tea.

“Whoever told you that nonsense,” I snapped at Sylvester.

“My mother,” he said.

“Sylvester,” I said in mock protest, “that’s complete nonsense! We all know that Max has to masturbate at least four times a day to prevent such a mishap!”

Young Max blushed and pursed his lips. I smiled at him fondly. Since that embarrassing matter of the carrot, poor Max has been very subdued, poor lamb.

I made the mistake of asking Bernard how he was, since he’d only been out of the hospital a few days.

“It’s all these tests,” he said. “They make me feel like a bloody pin cushion.”

“I’m sure the doctors are doing their best,” I reassured him.

“I’ve become a slave to my prostate,” he said sounding downcast.

“Aren’t we all,” I replied a little uncertainly.

“It seems to rule my life,” he continued.

“How very awkward,” I commiserated.

At that moment the kitchen door was flung open, and in staggered Sebastian. He looked terrible, with a weeks growth of facial hair on his chin.

“Good God, Sebastian! You look like you got interrupted halfway through eating a raw porcupine. What on earth happened?”

Sebastian was shaking with energy. “Just got back from Mexico,” he shouted. His words word tumbling over themselves to get out.

“I did the ayahuasca retreat
It was
 It was
” he was stammering his words out, his voice shaking.

“I think you’d better sit down and have a glass of water.” I said.

I decided to call my sister, who works at the local hospital. To cut a long story short, she swung by and using the drug testing kit nurses often carry, she determined that Sebastian’s Ayahuasca retreat could more accurately be described as an LSD retreat. That, and that he’d probably spent the last five days sleeping in a burlap sack. Not bad for a cool $3000.

As my sister was leaving she glanced at Bernard, and said, “Oh, Bernard. I didn’t see you there. I didn’t recognise you from the front.”

My sister does two shifts a week in Proctology.

This week I’d like you to take a good look through my Pinterest for some clothing ideas. As you know, I love my members to experiment. Have a lookand see if there’s anything there that takes your fancy. And before I leave you, I’ve a special request. Help our girlfriends at The Downtown Eastside Women‘s centre. They could use a hand. See the panel below for details.

😊

Fiona

 

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Let’s make a difference this week. We’re appealing to you to help out some friends of ours. The Downtown Eastside Women’s Centre supports vulnerable women on Vancouver’s Eastside. Mostly these are people who have fallen between the cracks of society’s safety net. We’re focusing on this charity today because it’s in a cool city, it’s a cause I know my members will fall in line with, and because the big charities have the big advertising budgets – and the small ones are often overlooked. This is a small charity, and your gift will make a huge difference. You can support this charity by going HERE and giving something, however small, to help.
Nice Legs, Shame About The Face! Wise words from the early 1980’s. The last verse is the best one. You can always enjoy the Fiona Dobson Playlist HERE.
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What have they ever done for us?

What have they ever done for us?

Good morning and welcome to a wonderful election day in the US. If you’re getting ready to vote, slip into some heels, do your makeup and get out there with plenty of time to make a difference.

Just this very morning I was walking in my garden with Sebastian, my personal trainer, and Amanda, my wife’s appalling friend. She’s heading over the border to the US this afternoon to vote, of course, like all good people should. However, as we were walking Amanda got a call from my wife, who as you may know is currently travelling.

Sebastian and I could not help but overhear Amanda’s comments, and politely listened in to the one sided conversation. Now the important details I will skip over, except to say that I was wearing one of my lovely pleated maxi skirts that I find so very comfortable and a pair of suede boots. However, returning to Amanda, who it should be noted edits Pig and Pig Farmer, the first publication in the US to endorse Mr. Trump in the last elections.

Continue reading “What have they ever done for us?”

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You won’t believe what I found on my doorstep.

On the whole I do not approve of large people with too much facial hair looming in my doorway. Even more so at 3 am.

That was the sight that greeted me this morning. I enjoy my beauty sleep, most of all to protect my looks, but also so I am fresh in the morning to write to my members. And last night, as my very understanding wife was once again traveling, this time at a conference in somewhere called Poughkeepsie, I was enjoying a night of calm sleep wearing a burgundy camisole. When I heard the chiming of the door bell, I pulled on a thick robe and went downstairs to find the henge-like form of Amanda, my wife’s appalling friend, blocking the doorway, like a couch abandoned by someone who had been trying to get it through a door that was marginally too small.

Continue reading “You won’t believe what I found on my doorstep.”

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Hannibal the vibrating dachshund.

What a strange and disturbing week it has been. Sometimes it takes more than lipstick to keep that smile in place. And yet we do, and the world is still a wonderful place.

Some of you may be aware of my wife’s good friend Amanda, the queen of tweed. As you may remember, she stayed at our house sometime ago, while her house was being fumigated.

Well, Amanda had left a few things at our house and I agreed to take them over to her house. It was not so far off my track as I was walking Hannibal, my pet dachshund, so it was no bother. When I arrived at her house in the early evening the other day I was surprised to find I had arrived while she was taking a shower. She appeared at her doorway looking like a giant panda, in a black and white dressing gown and after letting me in, she asked me to wait in the living room as she slipped into something more comfortable. This was a thought that was truly disturbing in it’s own way, but for my wife’s sake I waited patiently.

As I waited Hannibal did his usual thing of nosing around the place. To my surprise he was preoccupied with something underneath her couch, and while Amanda got dressed in her bedroom. I waited patiently, listening to the snuffling sounds coming from Hannibal, until I was a little disturbed to hear a particular humming sound emanating from beneath the furniture.

A moment later Hannibal appear clutching what can only be described as an adult toy between his teeth. He was chewing it’s silicon form and seemed very surprised that it was fighting back, vibrating away in his mouth. To be fair, his surprise was understandable, the device being almost as large as he is.

Wanting to avoid the embarrassment of Amanda finding Hannibal playing with a personal possession, I tried to grab the object, but thinking this was a game he took off, running first into the kitchen and then into Amanda’s basement. I gingerly followed, cursing his minute form and enormous curiousity.

It was only when I cornered Hannibal that I could wrestle the object from him, at which point I heard Amanda’s enormous feet descending the stairs. I slipped the toy into my pocket and found my way back to the living room as Amanda walked in.

“I’m so sorry to have kept you, it’s simply lovely of you to bring these things over…” There was an awkward pause. I realized Amanda was staring at my jeans. I shifted awkwardly.

“Really, it’s no trouble,” I said. I like to wear tight figure hugging jeans, and usually a pastel tee shirt. It’s a fairly androgynous look, and I find it works if I am not dressing in my femme style.

“Goodness,” said Amanda, unable to avert her eyes from my pants. I glanced at myself and saw the clear and defined outline of the toy. To Amanda I must have appeared extremely glad to see her.

“I should be going,” I said awkwardly, my mind racing, trying to sidle toward the door, and noticing Amanda seemed to be getting between me and the only exit.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I think I’m seeing a new side of you. I am beginning to understand what Maggie sees in you. Perhaps you want to stay a while. A drink perhaps?”

Amanda’s eyes were unashamedly devouring my groin, drawn to my physique by the enormous toy in my pocket.

“I really must go,” I said, trying to hide my aparently enormous embarrasment.

“Oh, no. Before you do, I have that book Maggie was asking to borrow. Let me get it for you!” Amanda rushed off and in a moment I had pushed the device under the sofa, and was turning to walk to the door when Hannibal realized the toy was once again in play. To Hannibal, this is a challenge, first to find it and then to run around with it until someone catches him. To my horror he scurried under the sofa and just as Amanda returned, Hannibal emerged from beneath the furniture with a powerful buzzing sound, moving backwards across the hardwood floor being quite literally vibrated around the room.

“Hannibal,” I said, feigning surprise. “What on earth have you got there?”

There was an awkward chase, culminating in Amanda relieving a strangely satisfied dachshund of the object, and I grabbed the book and headed straight for the door, leaving an embarrassed and confused Amanda to her own devices – literally.

However that is not the main reason I am emailing you. I’ve just put up a new episode of “Playtime With Fiona” on Soundcloud. You can find all my Soundcloud posts HERE.

I’d love to see you in my Premium Program soon. I think you know you’ll enjoy it.

Fiona

PS. If you are not a full member think about signing up – http://genr8tor.com/membership/ . When I see payment go through I will start you on your path. I work though everyone’s messages a couple of times a day and work to get you moving quickly. I know you’ll love it. Email me to let me know you’ve upgraded.

Fiona.

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Amanda’s cold snatch.

Hi there Gurls,

We’re experiencing a little bit of a cold spell here in Vancouver. I keep my house quite warm as I like to do yoga and workout in my large airy living room. Recently my next door neighbour’s twenty year old son, Max, has been joining me to do yoga and then study in the calm of this lovely room.

I was doing some stretches just this morning, when Max was there with his books.  He’s quite a diligent student, and is working on his Shakespearean era literature. He always seems to be here, with his nose pressed between the covers of a good book.

As I executed a perfect forward fold from the hips, I asked him if he had a favorite passage.

He looked at me thoughtfully, and then read from one of his text books:

When it lay fallow, smothered in dust,

Ignoble passion turned to lust.

And from his goodly wholesome thighs,

Came forth his manhood of great size.

And finding bended willing game,

He plunged himself into her frame,

With heaving buttocks and strong intent,

He thrust and ground till he was spent.

“Well,” I said, a little taken aback, “that’s very nice, if you like that sort of thing.” At that point I felt I should return to my workout, and did so until the next interruption – my wife’s appalling friend, Amanda phoning thinking my wife had returned from a business trip.

“I’m sorry, Amanda, she’s still in Costa Rica,” I said.

“I don’t blame her,” she replied. “Probably trying to get away from this cold snatch.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied.

“This cold weather.”

“Oh, I see. I thought you said
”

“It’s a cold snatch. Swept in from the north.”

“I’m sure it is,” I said and returned to my workout leaving Amanda to get on with writing this weeks breaking news for Pig And Pig Farmer Weekly.

Now, if you’re looking for some great gifts for yourself you may want to look at my special shopping list.  You can find it here.

If you’re already a member of my Premium Program you’re enjoying some great offerings. If not, perhaps it’s time to sign up!

🙂

Fiona
Don’t forget, I’ve got many free videos for you on Youtube.
Are you reading the exciting adventures of Andy in “Clothes Maketh The Man”?

Manipulated and taken advantage of by the evil Devina, Andy finds himself compromised into dressing. You’ll never believe what follows!

If you haven’t yet dived into the extraordinary serialised feminization adventure you can find it here:

Read the story – Clothes Maketh The Man
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Continue reading “Amanda’s cold snatch.”

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Time for a Halloween touch up!

As Halloween approaches and the souls of the dead prepare to walk the earth, any number of my friends are preparing to dress up and wander the streets in the dark. Actually, now that I think about it, most weekends many of my friends spend their evenings doing precisely that regardless of the time of year.

I was conferring with Sylvester in my kitchen, examining a few articles of lingerie, trying to decide what best to wear for my Halloween night party. I finally decided on fishnet, stiletto heels and a bodice, with a steampunk look. Perfect.

I asked Sylvester what he planned to come as.

“I think Donald Trump, if I can find the right costume.”

“At this late stage, I’m not sure you’re going to be able to find a giant dick costume!” I said sympathetically.

At that very moment Amanda, my wife’s unbearable friend, arrived at the door and knocked so hard I felt sure the roof would cave in. She has all the grace and delicacy of a garbage truck.

She barrelled in, coughing and spluttering like a diesel engine that hadn’t been run in a while. Amanda then went on to tell us of the latest disaster to befall her. Amanda was coming by, fresh from her gynecologist. Now, if there was ever a job that requires a strong stomach, being Amanda’s gyny would be the top of that list. Apparently Amanda was in the midst of an exam, had a coughing fit and one way or another the poor man was taken off to hospital with a broken wrist!

I will spare you the details, but it was all rather distasteful. Then, just to make matters worse, Sylvester let slip that he was coming to my party, which so far we’d successfully kept secret from Amanda. She then promptly invited herself to the event!

Reluctantly I asked what she would be coming as.

“Well,” she said, expansively. “I think I’ll come as that CNN broadcaster that looks like me.”

Sylvester and I looked at one another, puzzled. I was thinking, maybe Lou Dobbs, but he’s with Fox now. Maybe Wolf Blitzer?

“You know,” she persisted. “The blonde. Megan whats-her-name
”

“Megan Kelly?”  I asked.

“That’s her,” said Amanda.

“Oh,” I said. “The likeness is uncanny.” Megan Kelly looks about as much like Amanda as a carrot resembles plague.

“Well,” I said. “If you stand next to Sylvester as Donald Trump, all you need do to look like Megan Kelly is wear any form of period costume.”

But, that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. I recently had a delightful email from Brandi, in Yakima, WA in which she enclosed a great face pic which she had touched up using an app called YouCam Makeup- Makeover Studio. I’m sure we all appreciate a good touch up, don’t we? So this week I am offering a free membership of my Little Black Book to the best retouched Halloween pic which uses YouCam or another similar makeup type filter. Keep in mind that any pics you send in may end up on the website – so don’t be surprised if I place them there!

Have a wonderful Halloween, and at this time of year – when so many of us are having so much fun – spare a thought for Amanda’s gynecologist!

🙂

Fiona