The Adventures of Naughty Miss Jones

'cos naughty miss jones knows vibrators. Visit me at


I love pork rolls. And before you ask me, no, that isn’t a euphemism for something dirty or sexual (what?… why is she writing this then?). I’m talking about actual pork rolls here people, Banh Mi, those delicious, crispy, full of flavor Vietnamese pork-filled bread rolls.

When I’m hungover, I really, really love pork rolls. And with a hangover having been a weekly occurrence of late (don’t judge me, we’re all friends here) I often find myself on the weekends, pulling my hungover arse out of bed and into my car on a quest to find the best pork roll in Sydney’s inner west.

So if, like me, you love a good pork roll (and no, still not a euphemism for something dirty or sexual) allow me to share my reviews of all the places I’ve visited on my latest little adventure, just in case you get in the mood for some flavorful, moist, pork (really, people… really?… minds outta the gutter please!)

  1. Delicious rolls, Enmore – I don’t know why, but the name of this shop makes me think of dirty things. So of course I went there first. All in all, this one gets a 5 out of 10. I’m a harsh judge. The roll itself was a little too airy underneath the crisp crust, and the pork itself a little blah. Not bad, but I wont be lining up to get my hands on these delicious rolls anytime soon.
  1. Marrickville Pork Roll, Marrickville – this place is pretty famous. Google ‘pork rolls Sydney’ and it’s the first entry. But for all the hoopla, this bun is only getting a 7 out of 10 from me. Yep, it had all the right features, the salad was crisp, the pork tasty, and the bun the right texture, but (and people are going to hate me for saying this) it just wasn’t anything special. Kind of like that hot guy you’ve been coveting for ages, who turns out to be a little less than impressive when finally conquered.
  1. Pho Town, Alexandria – this was the latest spot on my adventure. And what a trip it was. This was like the PMS bun, some bites were fantastic, and others had me weeping, questioning the very purpose of my existence. The ‘bad’ bites came down to 2 main factors; the weird red jelly stuff on the top of some of the pork, and the funky tasting pate. Only a 2 out of 10 for this one.
  1. Rose Sunrise Bakery, Newtown – there are many options for a hungover girl who lives 10 minutes from King Street. But this hidden gem tops them all. The meat, part pulled pork, part your standard deli roll style, is freakin’ delicious. And when the juices from the pork seep into the soft part of the bread (but are captured by the outer crispness), well, people, we have a winner. It may not be famous, it may not even be visible from the street, but this roll was orgasmic. A well earned 10 out of 10.
  1. Allans Cake Hot Bread, Enmore – down the other end of Enmore road, sits a little Vietnamese bakery that just looks like a Vietnamese bakery. Peeling paint, bright lights, and the promise of a traditional pork roll made by people who know a thing or two about pork rolls. Sadly, it wasn’t to be. The meat was so fatty I had to spit it out (though my dog enjoyed the pre-chewed scraps) and while the general flavor was good, I just couldn’t get past the feeling of fat in my mouth. Especially after a hangover. 3 out of 10.
  1. Rolls on Oxford – Surry Hills – this was a former lunchtime staple of mine in years gone by. And a quick trip back reminded me why. Good roll, good pate, standard pork, and lots of that delicious pickled carrot stuff (how do they get so much flavor in there?). Not make me wet my pants with excitement good, but still very good. A highly commendable 8 out of 10.

If you’ve just read through this entire entry, thinking, ‘OK, get to the dirty bit, where is the bloke she is going to meet in the Pork Roll shop?’, well, I’m sorry. It ain’t coming this week people. But please take comfort in the fact that I have enjoyed many a firm, moist bun in weeks gone by, that make me lick my lips and groan with pleasure. And if you’ve got any recommendations from me, I’d love to hear them.

Naughty Miss Jones xx


Having been officially 100% single for a few weeks now, I, of course, got my swipe on. And, as swiping so often does, secured me a date on the weekend just past.

As an experienced Tinderella, I know to approach tinder dates with a grain of salt. Sometimes they happen, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they’re normal, and sometimes not so much. And then, sometimes, on extra special occasions, they maul your face.

I could tell from the messages Mr. Tiger (as we will call him… see what I did from there) sent, that he was of the extra keen variety. He messaged often. He called me ‘cutie’ without ever having laid eyes on me in the real life world. He tried to bring our date forward, cos he was apparently so keen to meet me (what can I say, the boy is only human).


So on the day in question, we went to a local pub and had a few afternoon beverages in the courtyard. I knew from about 10 minutes in he wasn’t the Tinder prince for me, but stayed put for a few hours on the chance of making a new friend (and for the wine, obvs).

After a few hours of chat, during which he continually told me just how cute he thought I to be, and how much he wanted to see me again, and invited me back to his place (4 times), it was time to call it a day. We were both locals and started walking back together. As we did so, he kept grabbing my hand, though in that brilliant way us girls do, I continually found reasons to extract it to, I dunno, get something out of my bag for the 10th time on that 200 meter walk. I am such an evil genius.

And then, after another successful extraction of the hand, right there by the edge of the main road, he was suddenly upon me. Hands on my hips, pulling me towards him, sticking his tongue in my mouth. Yep. I think at first I was too startled to do anything. The hulk of man upon me, the sounds of cars whizzing by, the slight fuzziness that comes after 4 glasses of red red wine on a sunny Sunday afternoon. It was just a bit much. I soon pushed him off, only for him to go in for the kill again. “No” I said to him firmly. “Why not?” he questioned. “Um, I don’t like to kiss on the side of roads”. The evil genius strikes again.

We were close to where he lived at this point, and I figured he would be out of my hair soon. Nope, of course Mr Tiger insisted on walking me home. Even when I told him not to, on a number of occasions.

And then we reached my front gate.

There, he went in for the kill yet again, standing in front of, and effectively blocking, the entrance to my home. When I ducked or tried to step around him, he literally tried to block my person, attempting to get his face close to mine the entire time. It was not until I mustered my best lawyer voice and said, very loudly (in case this incident subsequently required witnesses) “You are making me feel uncomfortable. Stop that right now” that he seemed to get the hint I was not keen for a pashfest and backed away.

Not the most pleasant of experiences, I can tell you.

Now, don’t tell anyone, but I am quite partial to a first date kiss. But, and here is the essential bit, only when both people are doing the kissing. Gentlemen, if in doubt, pulling away, trying to duck, pushing you off, and making excuses like “I don’t like to kiss on the side of roads” are not invitations for you to try harder.

Of course, he messaged the next day and asked me out again. Typical; it’s always the once you don’t want to see (or the ones that mauled your face) that do that. Needless to say, I politely (but firmly, in my best lawyer language) declined.

So there you go

Naughty Miss Jones xx

Yep.. he'll do

Yep.. he’ll do

This last weekend, I was spending some time with my good mate Rooster, when the subject of rub ‘n’ tugs came up. As it does.

We all know what a rub ‘n’ tug is (if you don’t, why on earth are you reading my blog?). A massage, usually performed by a naked or scantily clad lady, with a hand job to the point of orgasm at the end. Apparently, “it just feels good“. And at NMJ, we are all for anything that feels good.

Rewind back to the prior weekend, and I ended things with a boy I had been seeing a few months. He didn’t treat me how I want to be treated (and at this age, ain’t nobody got time fo’ that). And while I wasn’t sad it was over, the ending of things did leave me a little concerned as to where my next cuddle, kiss etc. would come from. What with being a single lass and all (orderly queue gentlemen, you know the drill).

So as Rooster relayed what the experience involved, the sensual touching, the attractiveness of the person so touching, the all-round excellence of orgasm, it got me thinking, why are us girls missing out on the fun? We like to be touched, we like to look at pretty men, and we sure as hell like orgasm. And then my brainwave hit me, there should be a rub ‘n’ tug parlor for girls! The Stroke ‘n’ Poke! Where attractive men give oil massages, lit by the flickering light of scented candles, and top off the experience by inducing orgasm, through the use of vibrators (of course I had to get them in there!). It would be a den of loveliness, a place women can go to relax and enjoy the sensuality of touch. Social stigma aside, I don’t know too many females who wouldn’t enjoy that. In these periods between men, as I’m in right now, it would practically be a community service.

Y’all remember when I interviewed one of Sydney’s leading male escorts for this blog. The link is here if you need a refresher.

Well, among the more practical tips Ryan shared with me that day, he also relayed what I already knew. Woman like to be touched, tickled and caressed. So, if a man who deals in women’s pleasure day in day out has verified that point, surely this new idea of mine is a winner!

Gentlemen, if you’re good with your hands, love women, are discreet and looking for your next career move, I might just have the opportunity for you. ‘Interviews’ will be held at NMJ headquarters (you bring the candle, I’ve got the massage oil and vibrator thing covered).

Ah, a girl can dream…

Happy Vibing

Naughty Miss Jones xx

couple in winter

For anyone who bothered to read my paltry attempt at blog writing last week, you will know I wasn’t having my finest hour, seeing as I couldn’t really fix my washing machine and all. It wasn’t my best writing, but I was wet, cold and emotional. I also (and I may have neglected to tell this part of my sorry story, probably out of sheer embarrassment), was a little cranky at myself as, in my attempt to dislodge whatever it was that was clogging my machine’s hose, wasted an entire bottle of perfectly good lubricant. I’m sure you get my theory there, but Miss Fix It I aint.

Because, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, lube is wonderful stuff, and anyone with a sex life should own some.

Contrary to common belief, lube has many uses in the bedroom department (the home maintenance department…not so much).

If this cold weather has got you a little frisky for some under the covers fun, try these out:

  1. Use a drop or two of warming lube on your lover’s nipples to stimulate this erogenous zone while it rubs against you (and yours too, while you’re at it);
  2. Put a few drops in the condom before it is slipped on; the extra sensation he’ll get will set his world on fire – a tingling lube is perfect for this;
  3. Stimulate blood flow to his nether regions by massaging the groin area with a slippery lube;
  4. If you’re warming up with a shower and getting some lovin’ therein (with your partner or solo), always use lube, otherwise the water will wash away your natural juices, which can cause discomfort;
  5. Spread some lube across your boobs and lay down behind him, then slide back and forward (think: a slippery backwards body slide);
  6. Slip some flavored lube on your lips before performing oral. This goes for both parties.
  7. Try other types of sexy, slippery products; a few drops of arousal oil on your lady bits, or some edible nipple gel, just for fun.

So, with all those exciting uses, you can surely see why tipping a perfectly good bottle (kiwi flavored too!) down the drain would get a girl a little down.

If I’ve got you wanting to try these tips out, I pride myself on my tried and tested range available at

They may not fix washing machines, but they’ll certainly help you get the sheets dirty!

Naughty Miss Jones xx

P.S. Machine still broken. Send help.

I’m shivering as I write this. It’s cold and I’m wet. I kinda smell weird, too.

Bloody single life.

I know as a single lady we are meant to be all “the shoes on my feet, I bought em'”/ girl power/ insert other Beyoncé-esque reference here, but sometimes, well, it just gets too much. People are probably going to hate me for saying this, but my cold, wetness has drowned out my filter, so I’m going to say it anyway. Sometimes a girl needs a man.

Like right now. I paid extra for a two year warranty on my washing machine, so figured when it went bust I’d be able to get a little help. Apparently not. “Its a blockage in your hose” I was told “You will need to unblock it yourself, I could send someone round but that’s not covered by the warranty, so you will have to pay $130“. Great. Well, dear lady on the other end of the Electrolux helpline, apparently I cannot unblock it myself. I can try. I can get myself very cold and wet and smelly in the process. But unblocking? Nope. Do I get a discount for figuring out where the hell the hose was? No, right, well thanks for your help anyway.

I’ve been looking to buy a home. Week after week I rock up at the auctions, all bright-eyed and enthusiastic, mentally deciding what wall paper I’ll put on my new bedroom wall, only to end up approximately $200,000 short of the selling price, which price, inevitably, is offered by a couple. Bloody duel income.

And in saving up for that home, I’ve been cutting back on my dinners out and after work activities, meaning I’m often home alone, with no one to keep my warm, nor split the electricity bill with. That’s before I retreat to my dark bedroom, which has been lit only by a lamp for the last 6 months, cos I’m too bloody short to reach up and change the light bulb. Awesome.

I hate to be whinger, I really do, and of course I know how lucky I am. But, well, in the cold and dark and wet and smelly, I just ain’t feeling too lucky of late.

So ladies, if anyone out there could spare their man, just for an afternoon, I promise to keep the vibrators away and use him only for other kind of handy pursuits, like un-blocking my hose. I totally get the sexual innuendo I could use from that line for your entertainment, but I’m just too cold and wet to bother.

Naughty Miss Jones


I’ve been working on a little somethin’ somethin’ here at NMJ HQ. It’s top secret. Highly confidential. Take to my grave kinda stuff.

Ok, fine, I’ll tell you (I’ve always been crap at keeping secrets anyway).

Over the past few months I’ve been slowly building up the plans for my own range; the Naughty Essentials Range. I basically want to create a range of the absolute essentials every girl should have, in a feminine and modern way, and at a price that will make the products affordable for all the lovely ladies out there. Through my business, I know what sells, I know what works and, or so I like to think, I know what you lovely ladies want. Keep your eyes peeled peeps, no bottom drawer will be complete without em’.

But developing a range isn’t simply a matter of drawing up plans and getting a prototype produced. Hell no. Think designs (read, hours of staring at vagina pictures, feeling textures, looking at plans), branding, pricing, importing, trademarking, blah blah boring business, get to the point Jonesy, blah blah blah.

And in thinking about what women want (before you ask, yes I watched the Mel Gibson Movie, it was no help at all), I keep coming back to some basic themes… mind-blowing orgasms, sensuality, and affection. Sounds look a pretty good trio to me.

And so, among the ultimate bullet and the ultimate rabbit, I have written up plans for the ultimate vibe, the one that does it all, the one that no girl can do without; the Vibe-n-Hug*!

Think about it, a product that, after giving you a mind blowing orgasm (clitoral or g-spot, there will be functionality for both) it provides a sensual cuddle, complete with big strong arms and the ability to big spoon. And it will NOT be programmed to role over and leave you alone after an obligatory 15 mins. Kinda like the one in the picture, only I didn’t invent that one.

Just joking.

I am well aware that such a product is silly (plus the price for a prototype was more than a house deposit). And, trust me, I’m also well aware that an orgasm can be enjoyed without a cuddle after.

In all seriousness though, if anyone has any (slightly more sensible) recommendations or thoughts as to what they would like to see or feel from their next toy, I’d be delighted to hear it. And of course, I’m always looking for product testers; if anyone is interested please get in touch via the contact us section of the site at (no big strong cuddling arms included)

Happy Vibing

Naughty Miss Jones xx

* Patent pending


Brrr outside its getting cold; time to go a huntin’ for someone warm to hold!

Being single in winter, well, it kind of sucks. As all one’s loved-up friends retreat into the loved-up winter wonderlands full of blankets, snuggles, and marshmallows roasted over a roaring fire (that’s exactly what’s its like, right?), a single lass often finds herself alone in a cold ol’ house, shivering under a blanket, and getting cranky at her dog for moving off her lap and thereby removing the only source of external heat. Ok, it’s not that bad, but you get my drift.

Generally, I quite enjoy being single. I do what I want, I eat what I want, and I haven’t been subjected to an action movie in months. But over winter, those cold, dark nights, it would be nice to have a human hot water bottle. The roasting of marshmallows just isn’t as fun when done solo. But how does one acquire a boyfriend for the winter months? If I was going to advertise, it would go something a bit like this:

An exciting opportunity awaits for the right candidate at Naughty Miss Jones HQ. This part-time, 6 month fixed term contract will offer a plethora of benefits for the successful applicant. The role will be fixed at two days a week, one mid-week and one weekend shift. The successful candidate will be flexible (literally), passionate, and have an excellent track record in the area of cuddles. Acting in (very) close proximity to our founder and chief viber, this role is full of challenges; watching girly movies without complaining, tolerating the female form in all its winter glory, and ensuring our company dog is properly attired before its evening walk (in which you will be required to participate). Language skills and cultural fit within our company are an absolute must; suggestions of watching football are in breach of company policy and will not be tolerated, suggestions of pouring ‘another glass of red?’ will be applauded and may result in the provision of additional benefits.

Applicants interested in this exciting and varied role should submit a cover letter, two written references, and a picture (dick pics are both acceptable and encouraged) to Naughty Miss Jones via the ‘contact us’ section of our website at

Applications close 1 June 2015.

Maybe for next weeks post, just for shits and giggles, I’ll post this somewhere and reproduce the best responses. Heck, it might even land me that human hot water bottle I’m after too.

Happy vibing


Just like Elle Woods, I feel confident using legal jargon in everyday situations.

Us lawyers use big words. We are sometimes extra clever and even use them in the correct context. The legal documents and correspondence I read everyday regularly contain words with more letters than your average post office, and the occasion Latin phrase or two, just for shits and giggles.

And while that’s all part and parcel of being a member of my esteemed profession, sometimes the reading of such well versed written work gets a little, well, dry… there’s only so many ‘furthermores’ one can read before their mind starts to wander. And that’s usually where my over active and slightly mischievous mind gets to work, turning normal everyday legal phraseology into, well, dirty things. Like these examples:

Tripartite – real meaning, ‘3 party’, for example, a tri-partite contract. NMJ meaning – 3 people getting it on.

Inter alia – real meaning ‘amongst other things’, for example, our client will seek damages for, inter alia, loss of profit. NMJ meaning ‘in the alia’. Take from that what you will.

Ex parte – real meaning, a singular party, for example ‘There is no defendant in this ex parte action’. NMJ meaning – those drunken hook -ups with you ex, which we have all had.

Cum persona  – real meaning – a personal action that dies with the party entitled to bring it. NMJ meaning – the excretion of certain bodily fluids on another’s person.

Dicta – real meaning – a statement of opinion, for example, the dicta in the decision is indicative of the Court’s view of s24 of the Act. NMJ meaning – dick. Or dick – ta (like, thanks for that penis sir!)

In absentia – real meaning – in the absence of, for example, in absentia a signed copy of the deed, my client alleges no binding contract exists. NMJ meaning – in the absence of a partner/ getting it on solo style!

It may not be the most mature approach to the practice of law, but after 10 years in the profession, you can’t blame a girl (especially a cheeky little bugger like me) for trying to inject just a little bit of fun, however pathetic my efforts.

And to all my learned friends out there, feel free to add to this list. Just know next time I send you a fancy looking legal letter inviting you to ‘enter into a tri-partite settlement whereby we will, inter alia, dissect the dicta of the recent court decision with particular reference to the application of the doctrine of cum persona, before retiring to our respective offices to continue such analysis in absentia, thereafter proceeding to bring the ex parte action’, I ain’t just showing off my ability to use fancy big legal words.

Naughty Miss Jones xx

Taken by the very talented Sherbet Birdie

Taken by the very talented Sherbet Birdie

Hair. Make-up. Champagne. Sexy outfits. Macaroons served on the most delicate of plates. Soft music. Cute props. And a big ol’ camera pointing right at you.

On my adventure to Sherbet Birdie’s Sydney studio, I got all that and more. On a quest to get a suitable pic to use for promotional purposes (the one I use for my tinder profile just ain’t gonna cut it… mostly cos I’m holding a West Coast Cooler) I stumbled across this lovely local business. It’s premise, as I see it, is to provide women with a unique and empowering experience during which they are the star (and, lets be honest darling, we all want to be the star). The experience involves being transformed into a pin-up girl via the magical skills of Lucy, being coached on the skills of looking all sexy-like for the camera by the lovely Sasha (who owns the business) and then, well, it’s your time to shine baby.  Lights… camera… action.

For anyone who’s been following my blog, you’d know that I’ve been through a bit of a rough trot of late, that’s left me reaching for the trusty track pants for the past few months.  I’ve been feeling anything but sexy. Unless tomato sauce stains down your jumper are the new sexy. But we all know they’re not.


So why did I do it? Promotional purposes aside, I did it, cos I deserve it.

As I woman, I often doubt myself. I have a confident facade, sure, but I have days where I feel worthless, unattractive and/ or like a big fat failure. In recent months, those days have been far more frequent.  In addition, I rarely put my own needs first. And I think I’m pretty typical in that way.  So to have a whole day about me, where I feel sexy and womanly and just a little bit tipsy (and all the other bestest things), is pretty bloody wonderful. I left feeling much more confident and attractive than when I had walked in.

In the words of the great Justin Timberlake, ‘she’s bringing sexy back…’. Get ready people. It’s on.

If you’d love to get your sexy on and be left with a gorgeous photo to remember the occasion, Sherbet Birdie’s beautiful website is here  (it’s so full of gorgeous pics, even if you’re not interested in the experience, I urge you to check it out).

And if you need some inspiration to get your adventure on and go, just check out my results. For someone who is neither particularly thin nor beautiful (but does, without being conceited, have a pretty amazing pair), I think I look fan-bloody-tastic. And next time I’m feeling worthless/ unattractive and/ or like a big fat failure, I’ll just look at the pic and be reminded I am absolutely none of those things.

Naughty Miss Jones xx


Nothing says romance like a weekend away with just your lover. Further or in the alternate, nothing says ‘shag time’ like a weekend away with just your lover.

Holidays provide a wonderful opportunity to get away from the drudgery of everyday life. They also provides a wonderful opportunity to get away from the drudgery of everyday sex. Think about it, no neighbors to complain you’re being too loud, no threat of needing to be back in the office in the morning, no need to even clean your own sheets after!

If you’re planning a dirty little getaway, why not think about packing an extra little something to spice it up? Just don’t go writing about this addition to your travel bag on your postcards back home (unless you’re sending me a postcard, then I so want to hear about it).

The Winter Escape – ah, the smell and sound of a crackling fire. But you can also have a fire in your pants[1].  The use of heating oils, clitoral stimulators and lubricants will help heat up the places the fire missed. Like ‘Hot Stuff’ warming massage oil, which will heat as it’s rubbed into the skin

Steel products can be heated or cooled, and retain temperature for some time. Why not place a steel dong by the fireplace while you sip your-mulled wine, and then, well, you know (just make sure it’s not too hot, those bits are delicate!). Try this one if you’re in the mood for some warmed-up-lovin

The Summer Getaway – just because happy hour is over, doesn’t mean the party has to stop! Flavored lubes provide a great way to keep the cocktail flavor going, albeit sexy style. My pick? Strawberry Kiwi of course! It can be found here

Another great option for summer getaways is to get down and dirty, and make your own vibrator, using the mould-a-willy-do-it-yourself-vibrating-dildo-kit.

It requires him to be both naked and hard, does take some time (a luxury you have while away) and will likely leave a little mess for the poor cleaner to get through when you check out. But it’s fun. And holidays are meant to be fun.

The Camping Adventure – nature at its finest! If you’re looking to mount more than just your tent on your camping trip, there are some great products to think about taking along organic slide lubricant, for example, is completely natural and chemical free, meaning you will keep that ‘natural’ vibe going well beyond the peeing in a hole.

Alternatively, the limited space means your bodies are going to be very, very close, so why not try out a couple’s vibe, which will fit snuggly between you and your lover in even the most confined of spaces (plus are USB charged, so can get their buzz ready in the car ride down). The Noa will do just the trick

Whatever style of weekend you’re planning, I reckon with my help, it will be one you won’t forget.

Happy travels, and happy vibing

Naughty Miss Jones xx

[1] Naughty Miss Jones does not endorse the use of actual fire in your pants. That would be silly.