Welcome to this weeks edition of Poutine Talk. This is Avivalasvegas bringing you all the news you need to know, quick and dirty, the way you like it. Today we have an odd blend of current events,letters to the editor, opinion pieces on the stuff you need to know. So join us in the avivalasvegas news room, live from somewhere in Cyberspace, for Poutine Talk.
Welcome to this weeks edition of Poutine Talk
This week in Poutine Talk we have letters to the Editor divided
into 3 categories; The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. So pour
yourself a drink, go and grab a poutine from the stand down
the street, and get ready for everyone's favorite letters
to avivalasvegas.com
The Good:
Dear avivalasvegas,
Your e-zine is a lot of fun. I perused the memories of Brooklyn, one of my favorite topics. Coney Island is now a pretty sad shadow of its former glory. Nathans hot dogs remains, and the cyclone (my first roller coaster) and wonder wheel are the surviving attractions. I usually make it to their Mermaid Parade every June, where glittery aquatic costumes and ragtag floats greet the summer season. My 90 year old grandmother even went a couple of years ago.
Thomas Wolfe wrote a great short story called "Only the Dead Know Brooklyn," narrated entirely in dialect. It's two guys talking on the subway, and perfectly expresses Brooklyn's vastness and mystery.
Signed Anonymous in New York City
The Bad:
To: Richard Lett (editors note: see The Green Room in the
Happy Hour section)
"Your boring get off the site"
RB, country of origin unknown.
hey roland,
Do you mind if i call you rolls? Thanks so much for your insight! By the way - i think you meant "you're" boring, (the contraction of "you are") not the possessive "your".
This would imply i owned something called a "boring" or i am drilling a hole in something. This would be covered in school, had you bothered to attend, you illiterate dweeb.
Signed, Richard
The Ugly
Dear Aviva Las Vegas,
How I came to know FitnessGirl: the true ugly vicious story 
Okay I'll tell you. In my travels of visiting various 'themed' rooms on PalTalk, a new communication application on the Internet where you can chat with people by text, audio or video, and exchange files, I noticed I had only visited the busiest ones.
I decided to try the ones on the bottom of the list which had only 1 person waiting in the room. No doubt these were the rejected rooms - the orphans you might say.
I noticed one called something like "submissive wants to be dominated by group". I had to just click and find out what would happen. There was "Stevew2" in the room and he said nothing after I entered. So I waited a full 2 minutes and we both didn't say a word and then finally I mischievously typed "have you been a bad boy?"
He replied almost instantly "I am always good". What a mind-bending moment. I decided to test his true faith to the cause.
After a few mild mental abusive questions, a woman named "FitnessGirl" strolls in. She wants to know if there are true submissives or cyber ones, I bellow with a deep voice. "Stevew2 is my slave and he will do what you wish."
I thought i had promise as a dungeon master but i was soon to meet a true freak artist when mistressFitness Girl starts to put "Stevew2" through an excruciating exercise of mind fucking on a scale off the friggin Richter scale of mind fucking.
Ominous questions like "Do you want me to be your owner or your mistress" and why? or "Are you ready to give up your life for me? Totally?" and the most scary "what does woman mean to you?"
I still get uncontrollable shakes from that one. Her voice came through my speakers in digital clarity that I knew that I truly entered a new sort of madness reserved for bad LSD trips. Suddenly without warning "boy-submissi ve29" entered the room like a lamb to slaughter.
It was more like a ladybug entering the black widow's web.
He had a name that made you suddenly realize there are 28 other toybots with the same name who signed up for the service before this current ncarnation. You sadly conclude you can't do anything with this information.
Kind of reminds you of Mud's robots in Star Trek but much more twisted.
Meanwhile Mistress FitnessGirl could smell new prey in the room. She pounced on him and within moments had a harem of boy toys who frankly were prepared to have themselves shipped into a crate and sent by UPS straight to her dungeon. Other people were coming in the room.
It seemed people could feel something real was happening in the room. Most conversations in these rooms always seemed contrived, pretentious or stupidly aggressive. The audience to this very bizarre ritual was getting crowded and fired up, when just mere minutes ago, it was just Steve and I.
Now there were 20 people who were commenting with typical phrases " is this freaking real.?", "Holy shit, this is fucken weird", things like that.
Within the 20 frenzied visitors crowded in the room, were other submissives who spontaneously began begging for instructions and punishment.
A conflageration of twisted lust of unimaginable horror became unrestrained and it was at this moment I was sure I was ultimately being punished for setting off this maelstrom of madness. All I remember in this time dilated eternal moment was stabbing at the close button on the application screaming, "mommy!"
After I took a break for a coffee and a sedative, I returned to my computer and saw a small box with a simple message that said "Wanna Chat?". It was signed FitnessGirl. This is how I came to know FitnessGirl.
Signed, yet another anonymous reader.
This is Aviva Las Vegas signing off from this weeks edition of Poutine Talk.
Ta-ta. Until the next time then, stay beautiful.
Contact Poutine Talk at 5a7@avivalasvegas.com. Make sure to put Poutine Talk in the subject line.
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