The houseboy went over pretty smoothly I think.
We picked him up at 9pm, blindfolded him, and drove him to our apartment.
He stripped naked, we gave him an apron with a pink bow and he got to doing the dishes immediately.
Angie and I painted our toenails and smoked cigarettes, demanded him to hurry up, got him to make me cosmopolitans.
Pretty much every dish in the house was dirty, and he did get them cleaned.
He did a shitty ass job mopping the floor. Its still sticky as hell. Also, when I went for a drink of ice water this morning, I saw that he filled the ice tray only partially, creating little halfassed slivers of ice. I took note of this, and if we let him come back, he's going to pay.
We tape recorded him stating that he was out bitch about ten times. I also wrote politically incorrect and cruel things on his bare butt with lipstick.
We listened to our favorite Turbonegro songs and danced around, waiting for him to pack away all of the trash.
Angie was way too nice to him, and apparently when I left the room, she told him how evil I was, and that that's why she loves me. Whatever, she shouldn't be walking across the room to get some wine when he can do it for her. When the bottom of her wine got warm, I tossed it on the floor and on his feet, and refilled it. I realized that dommes drinking box wine is a little halfassed. Oh well. "This is for us," I told him, "and if you have some idea in your head of some stereotypical bullshit, then you can go out and find it. We don't need you, you are privledged to be here. So obey or just get out."
All in all, it was a pretty standard session, nothing crazy, no peeing or anything like that. As I walked to the door in my beloved Harley boots, they got sticky from the floor, so I got him to lick them clean, making sure he licked the sole and not the leather part.
For such a shoddy job, I gave him a C+. I wrote this down on the postcard below, along with "Thanks for wasting our time." We signed it and let him take it home.
If you want something done right...