Friday Night At the Movies

It was a rather busy work week for both Mistress and Slave.  In particular, Mistress is hunkering down with a new job, and all the challenges of absorbing the new work place culture, while at the same time shaking some things up, which she was brought on board to do.

A part of the process, it's been harder for Simone to break away from work duties to do some of the things that we had gotten sued to over the last year or two.

"I'm sorry I've not been able to stop by for worship this week, Slave...."

"Not a problem, Mistress....I know how busy you are.... this will pass."

Slave had a busy work week too. My job here required be to ride out to some neighboring village to make some house calls in my budding alternative dispute resolution practice. You'd be surprised how open the locals are to an approach that does not involve sharp pointed objects, and the loss of limbs for one party or both. And D has been very accommodating with the equipment required to get things up and running..  First, she provided this mobile office, which has been particularly useful when I need a conference room to meet with the contending parties on site.

Then, when I whined a bit about the pain that arises when you combine a hard steel cock cage with several hours a day traveling via Yak, she found me this new saddle, with a strategically placed aperture  for my increasingly tender parts.

Believe me, that is a big relief.  I was afraid that the combination of these bumpy trails and lumpy Yaks might do permanent damage to Mistress's special equipment.

But I digress.

By the time we got back to our Yurt, with just a little sun left out here on the Steppes, we were both pretty fried. But Mistress thrives on her exercise, so we took a spin on our mountain bikes across the valley here, the early fall snow having melted into clumps here and there to accommodate our wheels.

Back home, we stripped off the exercise clothes and quickly slid into bed. After catching up on our email traffic, we turned off the lights and folded ourselves into one another's arms. Were we nodding off?  Could be.  But my antsy fingers somehow found my way between Mistress's thighs as I spooned against her. For whatever reason I could not resist sliding my fingers between those clean shaven folds. And then.... well, one thing led to another as they tend to do here in our humble Yurt, Afterwards we did settle into a short nap and refreshing nap.

When we awoke, we heated up some Yak Chili leftover from Sunday's football watching, and settled down in front of the TV to watch a movie in our Netflix Q. It was "Page One", a documentary about the New York Times and how its coping with the revolution on media. (Check out the trailer, here.)  Hard to believe, but they;ve been slicing bodies and have been lingering at death's door just like so many of the less worthy daily papers, some of which have gone quietly into the night these last few years. Indeed, some of our pals in River City are laid off or "early retired" ink soaked wretches  who have had to re-invent themselves late in life to keep paying the bills. The movie is well worth watching if you are either a fan of the Times, or curious about where all this "Journalism" thing is going.

The narrative movie raises the question of  whether there is a future for the traditional newspaper, with its high overhead roster of salaried and credentialed "journalists", when so many folks are out there doing "reporting" or developing content on their home computers. The pie of media product keeps getting larger, the sources more varied, but also much less "reliable" and "objective".

Then I thought of my own media consumption -- and production -- habits.  I  spend much less time buried on the newspaper (though we still get two dailies, even here in the Yurt) or watching TV news than in the past. But I am almost continuously connected to other media outlets -- my laptop or handheld, both of which spew content in the buckets full at me through all my waking hours. (Of course, these days a lot of that content is the smutty time, from our blogger pals).

At the same time, I'm spewing content of my own: facebook, twitter, and of course this rather silly but 45 minutes or so a day consuming blog.

Does that make us part of the problem?  An I really competing with the NY Times?  Putting real reporters out of work?

Sorry guys.