"I've seen your revulsion and it looks real good on you."- Courtney Love, Teenage Whore

if i wanted an asshole's opinion i'd take a shit- sunshine

I'm not sure if there was a full moon out last night, or they let the crazies out of the asylum, but the crowd last night was full of lunatics.

First of all, screaming "whore" at a dancer on a side stage is just idiotic and second of all when a dancer tells you not to touch her tits or pussy she means it, if you do so after she says no, you are sexually assaulting her. think about it folks.

I'm so pissed off that today's post is going to be a list of (some) my favorite makeout songs of all time:

The Bell Jar Photos

All photos by Jonathan Slingluff at the 27.28 gallery.

awkward moments in strip clubs

there can be many an awkward moment in strip clubs, just between two people that don't know each other. but what happens when my room mate and her boyfriend stop by? or when i give my friends lapdances? or when my readers come in? or someone realizes I'm the author of this depressing little blog? it's a little weird that i feel like everyone has seen my pussy and all these things have totally happened, and me having social anxiety and all, it seems to break down the walls I put up in my head between two different worlds. I tend to separate different sections of my life and get really confused and disturbed when they meld together. like when I found out an old fuck buddy of mine was doing an old co-worker of mine from a web site I worked for. i totally freaked out, but only because in my weird little brain no one I know should know eachother. this hyper-paranoia-self-involvedness comes from the fact that in Buffalo, everyone knows eachother and I got myself into a lot of trouble there this way. anyway, here's an interesting little story in which the names have been changed.

on about thursday of last week, one of my readers, we'll call him bill, let me know he had sent a bachelor party to the club to sort of help me out and because he knew the men coming with the party would enjoy my company as well as be respectful. he told me his friend's name, who we will call hank, and his description and then sent me off into the wild. saturday night rolled around and i ended up on a sidestage I hadn't been called to because my roommate had mixed up our stage rotation. all of a sudden a very familiar looking boy (hank) screams "OMG YOU'RE BROOKLYN!!" and he and his friends were all having a blast tipping me and being cool and joking around with me. I got off the stage and later came back and mentioned to hank that he looked rather familiar. he asked me if i used to have blonde hair. turns out, a year ago, i was hank's first lapdance of all time, ever. HOW WEIRD IS THAT SHIT?

oh, and for platypusjones and the rest of you, I have red hair now (as well as a sweet myspace angle) and i kind of don't like this picture:

i have something nice to say!, or, why i stay at the club i work at

I am a rare breed. A lot of dancers don't care about sociology, or reading about experiences of other dancers or the history of our occupation. However, I love, love, love books and documentaries about stripping. In absorbing all of this information I've realized how lucky I am to work at the club I work at. It may sound strange or like a cop-out or a lie as to why I remain in the business, but let me explain myself. In my research, I've heard about insanely high house fees, uncaring club owners and creepy managers and bouncers. Where I work, we are lucky enough to have understanding (as much as they can) owners, an understanding, hilarious manager and bouncers that are on our side as much as humanly possible. At some clubs the owners rarely come to the club let alone take the time to know every girl that spends more than two weeks at the club. Our owners spend time getting to know us and even go as far as to give us advice on how to make money as well as what to do with it. They encourage us to go to school. They talk to us when we're having a bad day. They don't make us pay our house fee at the beginning of the night and even lower it on nights where it seems like most of our money is going to go to the house and not to the dancers. Our manager listens to us cry, bitch, freak out, etc. He makes jokes and in general works with us to make us feel safe and comfortable at the club. The bouncers at the club feel like big brothers or our big brothers friends and are there for us when we need protection. I know I complain a lot, but I rarely feel that the hierarchy of the club has anything to do with the bad things that at times happen there. When I have a bad night, or someone does something nasty to me, I usually chalk it up to the way society and the media decides to portray us dancing ladies. People's minds can only be as open as they allow them to be and sadly most people choose to believe stereotypes.