Hello. Good morning, afternoon, evening or whichever timeframe you are currently enjoying. I leave it open because I enjoy thinking that people will actually read this all over the world and yes, in my little mind Everyone will. To the outside world I seem to be a normal girl living in a podunk, college town in the middle of nowhere, Bumblefuck, actually. If you saw me walking down the street you would probably think I was walking to work or maybe a friends house. When you see me walking into the lingerie shop you’d probably think I had a hot date or getting something for some q.t. with my boyfriend and when I walk out with a huge black bag with a BRIGHT pink tutu sticking out of it, you might even be a little confused. Or… It would totally click, “Of course that girl takes off her clothes for money.” Hmmm… Now that I think about it, I wonder if people actually do think that when they see me? I guess it doesn’t really matter. I learned at a semi-young age not to give a flying rats ass what people think. Unless of course, they’re paying my bills. Hmmm… Now that I think about that I guess I’ve always had a stripper mentality. Like most little girls, I wanted to be a ballerina when I grew up. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that the dancing I would be doing would be topless. I had your average childhood, happy family ‘til 5, parents got divorced, “Daddy” disappeared, “Mommy” got remarried, moved far, far away from everything I knew, started all over at a young age, “Mommy” moved, I worked hard, almost engaged at 20, started drinking at 21, pothead at 22, cleaned up at 23, binge drinker now (I know I drink for the feeling, not the taste. The first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem). Oh, I also started dancing at 23. Which probably explains the binge drinking, you can’t always do what I do with a sober mind. I say dancing because I feel like “Stripping” is such a derogatory word. The only time I call someone a Stripper is when they piss me off. “That fucking bitch stripper…” or “That stripping cunt” (ooo the “C” word, also a dirty, bad, disgusting word). My friends think it’s funny when it comes out. One of my girlfriends and I actually play a little game we call “She’s a Stripper”, it’s pretty self-explanatory. Of course, when people ask me what I do for a living I tell them I bartend or waitress. My poor boyfriend (yes, I do have one of those, Lord Bless his soul) thought I was a bartender for a week or two when we first started dating, until I slipped. Sometimes I wonder how long I would have kept up the charade. We haven’t been together long, only a few months but I can only imagine being together for a year or two and him thinking I have an office job or something ridiculous like that. Leave the house in a suit, just to strip down to my G-String and tank top as soon as I walk into “The Hole” (I wonder if he ever would have tried to visit or meet my coworkers). Aaaa “The Hole”, one of the many places in the world where you check your soul at the door. That sounds awful, I should rephrase. Hmmm… Ah-Ha! One of the many places where you lose total respect for humanity. Urgh. No! Ummm… One of the many places in the world where you realize men are dogs and will do anything for a bone (tehe BONE, I don’t think I’ll ever be mature enough to not think that’s funny). Of course my job is to make sure that I get what I want while letting them THINK that they even have a chance to get said bone. Oh, the games that we play to get what we want. I LOVE IT! I suppose I should get back to bed, my poor boyfriend is probably wondering where that warm body went to.
I am thoroughly excited about this though. Even if only one person likes this or becomes a “Follower” I hope it brings them (you) entertainment. I mean, God Damnit, I am an Entertainer after all!
