I’ve been busy practicing my lines for the inevitable moment when the handsome US Customs officer asks me where I’m going and mistakenly hears, as a result of my charming Canadian accent, that I’m heading down to attend the World Dominatrix Summit. Then he’ll have to inspect my carry-on bag for chains, whips, chips, and dips, and will be disappointed when he only finds a fresh Moleskin notebook and my sexy compression socks. (more…)
