Does anybody remember Pussy Ranch, the original Diablo Cody blog from back when she was a stripper and phone sex worker? It was an early ErosBlog favorite, when she still called herself “Darling” and long before she took up writing Oscar-winning screenplays for genuinely excellent movies with great if quirky music.

Sadly, Cody was also one of the people who was an early and influential progenitor of my distaste for blog vandals. The original Pussy Ranch vanished overnight, and subsequent projects (for awhile she had a blog-like thing in one of those “city newspaper” community sites, there was a more recent blogspot blog, and she does MySpace now) haven’t resurrected any of her old posts. I haven’t checked the archive sites, but it’s possible ErosBlog is now the only place you can read what she wrote about her 2003 engagement:

On Friday, Jonny presented me with a saucy new ensemble from Wet Seal (the man has some seriously excellent taste) and told me I should wear it for a “surprise date” on Saturday. But of course! I adore surprises.

So I donned the beaded top, miniskirt and pink fishnet tights on Saturday evening (Jonny wore an extremely hot new outfit as well) and we headed out. It turned out he had made reservations at our favorite sushi restaurant. We ordered cocktails and nigiri and commenced a fabulous meal. After finishing, we decided we were still hungry and ordered a second round of sushi.

So you can imagine my shock when the waitress arrived with a tray not bearing spicy tuna rolls, but a white ring box. “Here’s your special roll,” she said, barely able to contain her glee. Jonny dropped to his knee as I began bawling my fool eyes out in front of many gawking diners, and popped the question.

I had a surprise planned too: See, we’d been talking about getting engaged a lot recently, and I had a hunch a proposal was forthcoming. So several days earlier (as it turns out, the exact day Jonny had purchased the ring), I had secretly had the word “yes” tattooed on the inside of my wrist. I’d hidden it with an AC/DC wristband and hoped my surprise wouldn’t be blown.

And it wasn’t; I whipped off the wristband and flashed Jonny my wrist. “Yes!” Onlookers applauded, and my feet haven’t touched the ground since.

I wanted my answer to last forever, and now it will. (In fact, it’s healing nicely.)

We’ve also got her advice for guys who call phone sex lines, as well as a short discourse on punching men in the stomach for money. And let’s not forget what she said about poor Michelle Branch, who got so roughly used by Maxim’s art department!