Sunday 14 October 2012

Boink! -for "Bobo the Clown"

"Dan Savage has a Humor Category for the HUMP Film Festival!"

That's all that needed to be said.
My creative juices were flowing.
What's funnier than clowns? And girls in knee socks and tutus are damn incredible!!!!
I wanted to do a sexy/funny montage with sound FX originally. Almost vaudeville like.
...Then the more I talked about it with real film makers the more I learned how fascinating story telling through film was. I fell in love with a story, that two clowns could tell for me.
At first I just wanted to have fun and make a funny/sexy flick... Then My mind swirled around in circles. I was dazzled and inspired by the art of story telling through film. (Thank You)

This is the story that two clowns allowed me to tell:
Once upon a time I swore off men. They dated me expecting the girl I was on stage. When they saw my true self, they weren't shy about letting me know how disappointed they were.
So logically I swore off men.
Loneliness drew me to the comfort of a co worker who understood the stereotype. She lived it too. (we weren't clowns at the circus. We were strippers in a strip club) One thing led to another and suddenly, somehow, I was dating a GIRL! Not just onstage. But in my real life. No make up, no audience.
I found love without guile or expectation. It was incredible. And for the first time I didn't feel judged by the character I played on stage.
(funny note: when she and I would kiss my big lips would smear lipstick all over. When we would stop kissing and she'd point at her face and say "did you turn me into Bobo the Clown?")

http://youtu.be/xLYaXCVCXH4

I tried to tackle this film from 3 different perspectives. 

1)Humor and Entertainment
Let's face it people falling down is funny. I wanted to limit dialogue and focus on visual/prop/typical tried and true clown gags and sound FX. Keeping it universally funny was important.
While talking about my stand up comedy, http://www.youtube.com/btjofficial said,
"I don't know if I should get off or laugh"
Ever since then, that statement has been the foundation of my comedy shows... so while you're laughing there's two hot chicks to keep you basically entertained for 5 mins.
So for those of you who don't want to think about any possible message or meaning, and you just want something to watch mindlessly...  You're Welcome ;P

2)Closet gays. Escaping reality to explore sexuality. Hiding behind a mask becoming someone else to allow yourself to explore happiness.. and at the end of the film allowing it into your reality aka coming out of the closet.   

3)Judging a book by it's cover:
a)This girl is forever single because she is judged based on job. Publicly she is an entertainer, the world only knows the character she is on stage. No one knows her without the costume and make up. Only a co-worker understands. The happy ending allows them both to dismiss the characters they play on stage and genuinely find happiness with each other in their real world, sans make up, costumes etc.
b)Eliminating hetero relationships from dominating the definition love. Sexual identity isn't a factor. Love isn't about what's in a person's pants but what's in their heart. It's not the boinking that was important. In this film Love came not from sex, but from bringing happiness, acceptance and friendship from the characters they play on stage into reality.

I also used an old film cliche were the character escapes through doors to a fantasy.
The main character leaves her reality - to her fantasy that is played out on stage by clowns. THEN those clowns escape their reality by going through another door into their fantasy. (it's like waking up from a dream within a dream)
Reality is just behind the door. The door and what's on the other side is what pulls them apart. Until of course the happy ending!

HUGE Thank Yous to the many people who helped me create this. I couldn't have done it without you!!!! Mad Love Yo xxx

Friday 12 October 2012

Heart Break Almost Killed Me

Written August 2011

When you thank me for dealing with your bullshit...
Here's why I don't think it's bullshit.

I've never told anyone the whole story. Let's rewind 6 years

The anguish of heart break almost killed me.
I was 22, and my happy little bubble turned out to be a lie. a facade. Everything I believed to be true, everything I based my thoughts and opinions on had suddenly disappeared. I was alone, shocked by my own disillusionment.
I thought it would just fade away like boyfriends from the past. But this one lingered. I think it was feeling tricked or played that killed me the most. As soon as there was a break between songs on the radio - that millisecond of silence - my mind betrayed me and my heart broke a little more. I felt out of control. No matter how hard I tried to put on a happy exterior the tears would flow with or without my consent.
I couldn't talk to my friends because they hated him and were happy he was out of my life. They said, (from a place of love I'm sure) that they couldn't be my friend if I ever went back to him. and without any logic all I could say was, "but I love him"
I knew I was crazy. I knew he consciously and purposely played me for a fool. But I had lived in the disenchantment for so many years.
Our relationship was rocky at best. I grew addicted to the "I'm sorry's" I put up with the crappy relationship, giving and giving and giving until finally he'd respond and I'd be overjoyed by finally earning the affection I so craved.
After this break up. (and there were many minor break ups along the way.) I felt like I had worked so hard for someone I didn't even know. I was destroyed by the obvious ability he had to toy with my thoughts and emotions. He was the puppet master and I suddenly realised I had been the puppet.

It ached. I ached. I've never known pain like that before..
I couldn't get it to go away. the thoughts, the dreams, the habits, the hate and rage that filled me when I saw something of his.
I didn't want my family to feel sorry for me. I didn't want my friends to hate on him, or make me feel bad for having put up with him. I felt I had nowhere to turn to. so I went to work at the strip club. I painted on a beautiful face. Made sure my hair and outfit were nothing but spectacular.

Because that was the night I intended to die.

42 pills. I was so numb. I wanted to die dancing. Lost between the notes oft the music. I wanted to be on stage, under the lights where i felt loved.
I danced like never before. Every emotion and thought was left on that stage. the audience roared with appreciation. But then the music stopped. The night was over. The bar closed. and I was still alive. WTF!
Normally my girlfriend and I would go work out after the club closed this night we packed our bags and went to Tim Horten's and ate strawberry filled doughnuts. we talked about going on the road. She thought I could be a feature dancer after seeing my shows that night. I was relieved that I was alive. I survived a night were I had given up. I didn't feel hurt anymore. I was going to be ok. Life was going to go on.
I was walking back to my sexy silver strippermobile when I dropped. I woke up staring at the ridges in the cement. strawberry puke everywhere. Ambulance in the distance.
After that I don't know what happened.


I remember calling my mom and having to own up to my suicide attempt. I broke her heart. I drove to their house. my dad hugged me for the first time in 10 years. My mom was a mess. I went to bed.
I wish the story ended here. I lived happily ever after... but
I moved to East Vancouver.
Jason and I got back together
and broke up , and together and broke up
went to Thailand... and then we broke up
All that achy heart break kept coming back in waves every time we'd find a reason to spend time together.
It sucked and it hurt and my friends had vanished as they said they would if I got back together with him. I had played myself into a corner. I was alone and miserable and this time It was ALL my fault. I knew what I was getting into but without logic, "i loved him" (as I type this I put my hands up and make air quotes)

By this time I was a dancing all over Canada. I was on top of my game. People. random people Loved me, adored me. My shows were wild and insane resembling that one night of self destruction. I knew it was fake but no one else did. That's when "Samantha" became my escape. She didn't hurt or ache, she didn't feel anything, She belonged to the people. It was easy. It was safe. Samantha never had a relationship, her persona is that of a sexual bombshell that no man or woman could tame.
But I, the real me, needed a reason to get out of bed. a reason to get out of the house. I went to the SPCA found the saddest sucky dog in there and vowed through tears that I would always be there for that mutt. So he would never be hurt again. As long as he was alive I would have a reason to stick around. Mr Fluffy Muffin Head was stitched up and healing from all the abuse he took from his last owner. He was shaking with panic for days on end pissing himself and hiding with every new noise. He'd hide behind me when we walked.
till one day
He asked me to come over for some reason and we had a fight. I yelled, i've never yelled at a boyfriend before. I don't believe yelling has any part in a relationship. I pushed him away from me, he backed into the washing machine and then Muffin got in between us. He wouldn't let Jason near me. I was overjoyed that my damaged fearful mutt was protecting me.
I waked home with Muffin. Deleted Jason from my life, myspace, emails, phone #'s, I deleted all his friends.
I kicked a hole in my wall. and suddenly all my anger towards him turned to anger that I had kicked a freakin hole in the wall. What had i done??? I'm not destructive?? Who kicks a hole in the wall?!?!? Realising how distracted I was by the hole  I was thrilled that he was so easily replaced in my mind... by a freakin hole!!! I felt closure. I felt amazing. A hole was more important than him. What a rad realisation. The puppet strings had be cut. I had a hole to plaster over.
It was time.
he messaged me a few days later. and a few months after that. I never replied. 5 years later his shrink suggested he apologise. I told him to fuck off. but then I realised that it took so much energy to hate. I messaged him told him I grew up. and that I didn't hate him. we met for sushi and felt like strangers. I'm now thankful for the drama and bull shit.


I booked my tattoo appointment in 2006 after plastering over that hole. Got a broken heart. It's mended now. A chunk of it is missing. There's nasty stitches. But it's still a heart. I worked hard to put the pieces of my broken heart back together. That tattoo means so much to me.
I am the reason I moved on. I made the choice to change. I have become who I am now, because of the personal growth that came from dealing with such internal chaos. The tattoo isn't representing him. It's representing how I grew and changed and became, me.

what doesn't kill you makes you stronger

So that why I have a tattoo of a frankenheart, why I love my dog... and most importantly why I'm still alive.

Tuesday 11 September 2012

Making "it"

Could it be that "making it" means being grateful for this very moment?
Could the key to fullfillment be to live fully in the present instead of constantly contemplating the future?
Could it be that happiness can only be found in this moment, and the elusive "there" for which we are endlessly striving for is actually HERE, in front if us, easily within reach?

Numb

"I do not know why it is, I just know that it is:
The lower depths you descend, the higher peaks you climb.
If you continually choose numb as your method for dealing with pain, you will begin to numb your joy as well, until eventually an even numb buzz becomes your constant state of being.
Numb is a deadened way to live."

Friday 31 August 2012

Pantless Morning on Davie Street

Here's a funny story:

I walked my dog to get coffee this morning, as I usually do. I tied him up to the lightpost, as I usually do, when I went in to get my coffee... As I usually do.
My coffee was particularly delicious this morning. I was thankful I paid the extra for the Venti. I really needed the caffine boost.
Upon realeasing my dog from the lightpost he somehow wriggled away while I was trying to re attach his leash to this collar. I reached out to grab him and the chase was on.
He ran across Davie Street and down Thurlow. Cars swerving and honking. I chased after him, yelling at an on comming gay couple to grab him.
I finally got my hands on the geriatric mutt. However I can't really scold him. Yell as I might, he's totally deaf, and he doesn't listen. ;)
I picked him up and held him with one hand to my hip like a laundry hamper. Now he doesn't like to be picked up. His little legs ran mid air as he panicked.
I was wearing my ex's baggy old lululemon pants that are, "fashionably sloppy." My little dog's paw quickly kicked my baggy pants off my ass. the fell round my ankles.
Luckily I have no shame, but I do have priorities. I dropped my coffee and tossed my dog over my shoulder and held him with one hand like a baby while my other hand pulled my pants up.
I walked back across Davie Street to the Starbucks where his leash was still attached to the lamp post.
A lady sitting outside had witnessed the chaos and offered some helpful advice, as strangers often do.
"you shouldn't let your dog run into traffic!" she said.

Not wanting to continue speaking to this person I responded in a calm clear tone of voice, "I'm sorry, I don't speak English."

Then she repeated herself, only this time she spoke MUCH MUCH LOUDER!!!

As I walked away with my dog secured to his leash... I looked at my fluffy, adorable, mennace on four legs, and thought "Why I didn't drop you and keep the Coffee."

Sunday 26 August 2012

My Advice for MEN

For future reference:
Never tell a girl you wouldn't hump her unless you were overly intoxicated.
and saying,
"COMMON IT'S YOU"
doesn't make it any better.

EVEN if she is your bestest friend in the whole wide world.

Wednesday 15 August 2012

cancer and porn?

A dear friend of mine had cancer recently.
He is a porn producer that I've worked with many times. He is also a father who is proud of his family. He is a boyfriend who loves boundlessly.
I've never seen him sad or depressed. Maybe because cancer teaches us that every moment that we do have is one to be thankful for.  Each day on set He'd carry my bags, open my doors and treat me like a princess. Now I'm no diva. I'm perfectly capable of opening door for myself. But he would insist that I allow him to be a gentlman. Even when he was going in and out of the hospital for cancer treatments I had to argue with him to let me carry my own bags.
One day My girlfriend and I went to the hospital to see him after he had been repaired with man made body parts. He said he wanted to tell us something... (uh oh)
Now my girlfriend is the emotional hippy type and I'm uncomfortable with tears so I make jokes non stop to ease the tension in the air. I really hate to see people cry. So I joked about my unsuccessful love life. (it's always good for a laugh)
In the cafateria he started to make his big announcment. Tears poured from his face a he explained that what procedures has taken place. His voice cracked when he told us that the Dr had looked over his progress and said,
"You are now cancer free"

I'm choking back tears just remembering the moment.

It must have been incredible for the Dr to be able to tell someone who thought he was one foot in the grave, that he's gonna live!

Months later he's back on his feet. Directing, editing and producing porn. ...and back to opening doors and carrying my bags. (the light ones anyways, like I said I'm no diva. but you gotta let a man be a gentleman)

The treatments may have effected his manhood. But they also gave him a new found appreciation for all that is beautiful.

Now I understand some fetish porn that he produces much better. Being turned on, the chase, the exhileration is sometimes all you need. Those who would rather watch a women doing bicep curls, or walking in peep toe stilettos or perhaps they like goddess worship. They don't need a climax. The appreciation of a woman's body, her mouth her full, moist, pouty lips.. That's porn for them.

There's nothing weird about it. differnt strokes for different folks. and for some no stroking at all.

Thursday 9 August 2012

To Be Read Upon My Departure From This World

To be read once I am dismissed:

My life has been simply incredible. The value was not in it's length, but in the content. (like they say, size doesn't matter, it's what you do with it)

I have the worlds greatest parents. I like to call them my enablers. I was born into a loving family who bent over backwards to help me achieve each and every dream. I couldn't have asked for a better.
My lil bro is the greatest dude in the world. He's been my security guard, my mechanic, babysitter, scape goat, wing man, partner in crime, and my hero many, many times over.

The Akre's. I will never be able to express or repay you for the impact you've made in my life. Each and every day I am so thankful for you. Dylan, watching you grow up was one of the best parts of my life.

My Tracey. You are so damn good to me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve a wonderful girl like you in my world. Thank you for taking such good care of me. Thank you for seeing my true self. Thank you for for encouraging me to chase my wildest dreams. Thank you for being front row in every audience cheering me on. Stop Crying, it will give you wrinkles.

My Bros... Matt and Mikey. I call you my brothers beacuase it's the easiest way to show your importance to me. You're so much more than just friends. Even the term "Best Friends" can't describe how close to my heart you are. You're family. You're forever. I love you endlessly.
Somehow our worlds collided and I was forever changed. You helped me see my value and reach for bigger and better. You are real men. Solid, Loyal, Trustworthy and True. Thank you for seeing my brain beneath all the hairspray and my heart beneath the giant tits. I don't know how I would have made it this far without you. Thank you for allowing me to be your mamabear. You're just what I needed.

I did amazing things in my life. I lived out my wildest dreams. I learned so much. I loved deeply. I had incredible relationships and adventures. I am proud of my life. It was a life worth dying for.

Everything happens for a reason. My journey did not end too soon. Although that's how it may feel. This moment may cause pain and heartache for some. but, now it's time for someone else to pick where I left off.

Thank you all for being an important part of my life's journey. I am filled with gratitude for each and every person and where their time in my life taught me and where it lead me.
It's been a wild ride, and it's been worth every moment.

Love Love Love

Wednesday 8 August 2012

You Are Where You Put Yourself In Life

I started working out again... and again... and again.
It's like quiting smoking, there's tons of false starts before it finally sticks.

"You are where you put yourself in life."

I like that quote. If my life sucks it's cause I'm making decisions that lead to it sucking.

6 years ago I was on top of the world. I had lost 100lbs and won 5th place in my very first fitness competition. I kept competing until I was on team BC at Nationals! Then I stopped...

In 2007 I placed 2nd and I started dating this dude, let's call him Buddy.
I then went on to place 4th at Provincials, "Buddy" fell asleep in the front row and txt me all show asking when it was going to be over.
I didn't invite "Buddy" to the Nationals. He had nothing supportive to say. I placed 8th. I was jazzed that I didn't come int 9th! But that's not how "Buddy" saw things.

I stopped competing after that. I kept working out with "Buddy" at the local community centre and tried to hang onto my love for fitness but every time a box of suppliments would come from one of my sponsors he would take product for himself. He built his dream body. He looked great.

I remember him standing infront of me at the treadmill the last day I every worked out in public. He told me that I was lucky to be dating him cause he's only gone out with thin beautiful girls. But he made an exception for me cause he thought I was a good investment.
I burst into tears and left the treamdill to hide in the changroom.

I never went back to that gym. Everyone knew me there, they knew of my competitions and were so supportive. But they also liked my boyfriend who was there every day. Why was he there every day? Well for the last 18 months of our relationship he didn't have a job, he just worked out. I paid all of our bills and slowly started to hate my life.

"You are where you put yourself in life"

and I put myself if a pretty sucky situation.

I finally broke up with "Buddy"

I've been single ever since. I've dated. But no one's become boyfriend material. In the last few years of being single I've achieved so much. I've acomplished things I had only ever day dreamed of. I've been to places I only wished I could go before. And I've met people I pray I get the honor of growing old with. I've regained a ton of happiness.

It's true. You are where you put yourself in life. So where do I want to put myself? I want to be right back at my happiest part of life when I was feeling unstoppable. 

http://thesamanthamack.blogspot.ca/2011/11/my-fitness-competition-nov-2006.html

So I started the journey again.
I'm one solid week into military inspired workouts. My ass aches when I walk up stairs, My abs tremble when I first sit up in bed in the mornings. I feel incredible.

 Many people told me I couldn't and shouldn't... back in the day. And I'm sure they will again. But it's my choice to keep those people around or to let them go.

"You are where you put yourself in life"

Thursday 26 July 2012

Live Different - our motivation

Written By: Liv Lethal

So as some of you may know, Samantha Mack and I went to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico a couple months ago with Judy Chin, photographer extraordinaire. The trip had quite the effect on me, and on the third day I was discussing plans with Sam about coming back to the country and building a house. And here we are, planning events that will help us raise money to do so, with our first event being on July 26th.



But, there have some misunderstandings regarding the purpose of our fundraiser so I'm writing this note to outline our plans and how why we are doing this. Some people think that we are raising money just to go on a free vacation, and others don't understand why we are going to Mexico to help a poor family instead of helping the homeless here. So here is a detailed explanation of what's been going on through my head before, during, and after the whole trip.

A week before leaving for Puerto Vallarta, I recall talking to one of my coworkers at the elementary school about a trip she had just come back from. She had gone to the Dominican Republic to build a house for a family through a non-governmental organization called Live Different. Anyone who knows me well would know that I would have been super duper interested. I was born and raised in Tehran, Iran for half my life. Tehran is a very populated and polluted city where the gap between the rich and poor is quite huge. I grew up witnessing severe poverty (see one my previous notes for an experience I had in a hospital in Tehran that motivated me to become a doctor) and always felt as if I needed to do something to help those in need. Why some had so much, and others had nothing left me furious and heartbroken over the injustice that was prevalent. I never did let go of that belief, and after moving to the USA, my family quickly went from being middle class to not so well off, despite my father having a double PhD. My parents worked their asses off to pay for what we had, and I quickly became aware that my ESL and dark features had marked me as an alien in the Neo-Nazi community in Idaho that we had ended up in. I definitely know what it's like to be marginalized and financially unstable. Regardless of my difficulties, I studied as hard as I could and eventually skipped a full grade, starting UBC as soon as I could. I was always thankful for the educational system in the North West. In Canada, if you have a plan and work hard, you can be anything that you want.

Anyway, the day of the trip arrived and we were eventually in paradise. The warmness and friendliness of Mexican culture was so similar to Iranian culture that I felt right at home! I was in love! But on the second day, between Sam looking for a baby daddy, Judy bargaining with the tour guides for a snorkeling trip, and me signing up for the most ridiculous beach olympic tournaments (and getting into some seriously hilarious awkward situations), we decided to wander off into the villages nearby. I felt as if our resort was just a postcard, or like a scratch n' sniff sticker. The smell only faintly resembled the "fruit" it was claiming to be. The poverty was horrifying. Needless to say, our resort must have looked like a castle to the poor people around, and I wasn't too surprised when we were slammed with the locals trying to sell us things. There were so many children working during the day, too poor and marginalized to afford a basic education. The vicious cycle of poverty was in full gear. Going back to the resort that night had left a bad feeling in my stomach. I felt so awkward sitting on my bright blue floatie, hanging out in one of the 12 pools in the resort. I had access to some of the best food in the district, and yet so much of it was being thrown away. I was so close to sneaking ice cream out the resort to take to the little ones that I had met in the villages.

I brought up Live Different with Sam and suggested wanting to come back to Mexico to build a house for a family living in a garbage dump. Having done lots of fundraising before, Sam was all over it. We thought about how we could raise money and decided to come back for Christmas to Vicente Guerrero and build a house.

The biggest reason why I want to be a doctor is to help people without political affiliation. I want to be able to travel to different countries and help those at risk. But I'm not at that stage yet. I have a good 300 muscles left to memorize :P. But through Live Different, I know that I'm able to raise money to at least change the life of a child growing in a situation with no opportunities. I dream of one day helping the homeless right outside my door as well, but the reasons behind poverty in Vancouver are different from those in Mexico. They are a bit more complicated. Building a house for someone here will cost far more and take much more muscle and brain power. The house we're building in Mexico will have no running water or electricity, but those things are rare in Vicente Guerrero as it is a brutally poor area near the US/Mexico border. Building a house there might also be a reason to keep the Mexicans in Mexico and decrease the illegal immigration rate.

It is important for people to realize that Mexico is not one giant sunny beach paradise. That's probably less than 5% of the country, and a popular stereotype that keeps the tourism industry alive. We are going to stay with a family while we are there, and are going  work everyday for seven days, getting up at 7am to build. I will be video blogging the whole experience as well. Here is an example of the "garbage dump" families there: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FxqbwebKpX4

Here is the website for those interested in our trip: http://livedifferent.com/hero-holiday
All the details should be listed there!

"We are all about choice - the choice to live different.

We believe in the value of each of our lives, and that value is what makes our lives worth living.

We will not be persuaded by the lure of apathy or the haze of indifference. We will stand up for what is right.

We will not perpetuate the 'me-first' mentality that endangers our culture. We will remind the world that there is more to live for.

We believe that a changed heart can truly change the world.

We believe that this change starts with each of us.

It starts now. Live Different."

OUR FIRST EVENT WILL BE ON JULY 26th AT THE PENTHOUSE.
http://www.facebook.com/#!/events/414665951908782/

Wednesday 25 July 2012

My Shorts Were Fashionably Short

Saturday Night. I'm standing with my team in line at the night club waiting to get in. I'm wearing a latex corset with bits of material draped across the important parts and about 3 hours worth of body paint and feathers. The other two models on my team are wearing booty shorts and body paint and one had a sailors hat. We stand out... to say the least. Why are we not VIP and escorted into the club immediatly? Afterall the only reason we're there is to be in the midnight fashion show. As far as I understand... WE are the entertainment for their club...

We just finished an all day make up competition and the "fashion" portion was supposed to be judged on stage. Act 5 cosmetics was giving away thousands of dollars in prizes and our team was there in full force. tweeting, FBing and networking like crazy.

After about 15 mins we finally made it into the club and it was a sausage fest! I've spent most of the last 8 years working in strip clubs and "I" was shocked at how many men were at this club.Men kept bumping into me - well, my boobs, as their friends took pictures. They thought they were being sneaky (as most drunks do)
An hour later I was frustrated with the idle chit chat. NO ONE KNEW WHY WE WERE DRESSED LIKE SEA CREATURES AND SUMMER FANTASIES!!! It was so awkward. Then we were hurded onto the make shift stage and the MC tried to announce us. The sea of people didn't give a shit. When she announced names for our fashion show it quickly became a competition of who could shake it best. The girl with the skirt made of glow sticks won. The MC tried to get the audience to cheer for their favorites but she was squshed in a corner and had no control over the chaos that had been created.

I climbed off the speakers that were working double time as our stage into the eager hands of a dozen or so intoxicated fools who now felt intitled to grab and pull me in their direction. I felt one hand on my tit as another grabbed my ass, on man then held my wrist and wouldn't let go. I turned around, filled with rage and couldn't tell who in the sea of people to get mad at.

Overwhelmed, tired and pissed off I made my way back to my purse which held all my real clothes.
As I walked through the club more men made comments that increased the fury I was mindfully compressing. I changed into my normal clothes in the washroom. (muklucks, camo shorts and a black long sleve zip up hoodie. However I was still painted head to toe in blue, green and purple body paint and glitter with the most beautiful and exoticv feathers glued here and there) While I was changing i recieved a txt that the dude who had my truck was about 20 mins away. My response was something to the effect of,
"I need the fuck outta here, I'm gonna spill someone face soon"
and that's exactly how I felt. I waws about 20 feet from the exit when one more dude grabbed my wrist and told me I was going to have a good time tonight. He may have meant well.. I pulled my arm away. Rage, nothing but rage fueling me. Then another random hand grabbed my bottom. Now my shorts are fashionably short and I wasn't wearing panties. Whoevers hand that was definitly had my DNA on his fingertips. I have never turned around so fast in my entire life. I've only hit someone out of anger twice in my life... this was the third time. Due to my manicure I cant make a good fist but my lil bro taught me how to throw on hell of an elbow.  As soon as my elbow made contact I grabbed him by the shirt and yelled something along the lines of..
"I didn't ask you to finger fuck me and you didn't ask to get hit.. now were even."

I bolted from the club.
My team was outside saying their goodbyes. I smiled, said my thank yous and started walking home. I called my ride and told him to pick me up along expo blvd.
Soon my Jeep pulled up.
When I climbed inside I burried my head in my friend's shoulder and didn't speak. I didn't know if I should explain my pissy mood, cry, or just be relieved that nothing bad could possibly happen now.
I picked the latter of the 3, at first... then I felt like I needed to explain my sucky attitude. I gave him the coles notes version.
Then I said something that shocked me.
"I'm so used to being in a strip club where men know better than to touch me. They buy me drinks, offer polite idle chit chat and are on their best behaviour most of the time. Because they know that the moment they touch me the bouncer will destroy them. You'd expect men to be creeps and freaks at the strip club but it's the men at the "real" clubs you have to watch out for."
what a wild discovery! For years my family and friends have heard me complain about the worst case scenarios in the strip clubs but relistically There's one bad egg/week, and I''m well protected. I was blown away by the amount of bad eggs in this one club. And all of them... getting away with it.

Friday 6 July 2012

Making babies so my mom will be happy

My heart broke a lil tonight. Mallory, my friend of 23 years is getting married. 23 years ago we would daydream about getting married And  having kids. We picked out their names at least a hundred times.  We were in the same ballet classes, swimming lessons, we would spend our weekends catching frogs in the creek by the old cemetery. when my dad bought me my first car I drove straight to her house to show her first! And then again with my second and third cars.  We would hang out all day then rush home to call each other. True BFFs Today I got her wedding invitation. I guess this means I'm really a grown up now. I'm the last one standing. Growing up it was always Mallory, Yvonne and myself. The 3 teachers kids stuck playing together while our parents worked on their classrooms. We were kinda forced into being friends. And thank god we were. Now Yvonne is awaiting the arrival of her second baby. She was married in '08. She's a teacher just like our moms. She's happily repeating the live we all know so well. Mallory was the pretty one she had the popular friends and was invites to all the parties. She smoked and drank before Yvonne and I had the guts to even think for ourselves about such things. everyone loved Mallory.  She's travelled all over. Her boyfriends always spoiled her rotten. Or so it seemed.  Now she's off to Marty the boy who has and will continue to bend over backwards for her. She's lucky. It's all she's ever dreamed. I'll cry so hard at her wedding.  Then there's me. Happily divorced, no kids, bouncing all over the world seeking adventure and opportunity to just do something better than the day before. Hopelessly seeking a partner in crime. It's dawned on me recently that all I ever hoped for and dreamed of was getting married and having kids. That the only future I was taught. That what I've been told is expected of me. Success is almost synonymous with creating the perfect nuclear family.  And we can't forget the supportive words of my mother (and many others) "when am I gonna have grand babies?" So intense  is the pressure for me for reproduce so that my family will be happy. It's not just them causing me to feel pressured, it's mostly me. It's all I ever expected out of life cause it's the only form Of success I was taught Everyone whispered about my aunt who never had children. Finally when she married and her step children had babies, she was a grandma and everyone approved.  When I was 5 I decided that I would have to have kids by 30.  Well it doesn't look like that's going to happen. I told My mom I could get knocked up by one of the Hollywood hunks I've been casually humping. Get some Handsome genetics and a non existent father. But my mom shot down that idea reinforced that I must be married and no grandchild if hers will be fatherless. Ugh So back to square one. Success is still very much measured by the same old standard the my mom , grannie and great grannie had to meet.  Get married, stays married and have babies. Sorry to disappoint But it's almost my 29th birthday.y window to fall in love, get married and make babies is shrinking. I'm pretty strict about my 30 year old deadline. I just want to be young enough to be active in my kids life for as long as possible. After almost losing my mom and dad when i was 14 I have this Terrible fear of dying.  I don't Want to have kids so late in my life that my chances of being here are shortened anymore than they have to be.  So I have exactly 4 months by those standards, so fall in love, get married and get knocked up.  I'm a dreamer! I believe anything is possible! And even I don't see any of this happening in the next 4 months. So I guess I better figure out what I'm doing with the rest of my life. Next week I'm flying across the country to hosts a punk festival only to come back to something like 23 bookings in 28 days. Comedy shows, modeling, hosting, DJing, filming, I'll be hitting the ground running. I'll be in Toronto, Vancouver and Vegas and that's just the next 6 weeks. My life isn't lacking excitement. It's obviously amazing!!! I am so excited about the crazy things I get to do! Each one is more exciting than the previous adventure. But this is not what I was taught is successful. So I feel like a disappointment. I love my life, my jobs, and all the crazy opportunities I get. I wish people would stop telling me that I'm missing out by not having a family of my own. Stop telling me my life is unfulfilled. I was so happy till you told me I shouldn't be. I wonder if you're right or if it's just the crab box effect at work again 

Monday 25 June 2012

Panties

I stayed up till 6 am doing laundry. When i awoke at 10 I remember I had left two dryers going& went to gather my things. I noticed the bright purple lace panties I had worn last night hanging on the shelf above the washers. I suppose I had dropped them. I held the panties to my face and sniffed the crotch to see if I had dropped them before or after the wash.  Then I noticed the label that said xs  And realized that I had just sniffed someone else's panties 

Friday 22 June 2012

I Thought He Was Dead! Damn Geriatric Mutt

After work I found my dog curled up on my fav latex fetish dress fast asleep. He's completely deaf so I've learned to gently pet him to wake Him up. He didn't move. I put down my bags and even though I know he can't hear me I started calling his name. I shook him, tapped his nose then Picked him up. Still no response. I put him back down and stared at his stomach. I could see him breathing. I reached for my phone to call someone. But what could anyone else do. So we drove to the emergency pet hospital I carried him in and he suddenly and happily woke up. Wagged his tail and looked at me with those big brown puppy dog eyes of his.  My heart stopped racing.  I leaned forward, buried my face in his fur and let out a sigh of relief.  I'm pretty sure the vet thought I was on drugs. I had been DJn at the strip club my purple nd black hair pinned up elvira style, topped off with over sized pink and purple flowers, my tits looked like rockets peeking out from my tight black bustier top and I was wearing my usual amount of make up - just enough to make local drag queens jealous.  Then I stood there explaining that my dog was unresponsive but breathing as he sat there wagging his tail while fully conscious.  She said it sounds like he was just sleeping. #ThisIsMyRealLife 

Tuesday 29 May 2012

Who Is Jack Schitt? (story stolen from the interwebs)


WHO IS JACK SCHITT?
For some time many of us have wondered just who is Jack Schitt? We find
ourselves at a loss when someone says, "You don't know Jack Schitt!"
Well, thanks to my genealogy efforts, you can now respond in an
intellectual way.Jack Schitt is the only son of Awe Schitt. Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married O. Schitt, the owner of Needeep N. Schitt, Inc. They had one son, Jack....
In turn, Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt. The deeply religious couple produced six children: Holie Schitt, Giva Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Bull Schitt, and the twins Deap Schitt and Dip Schitt. Against her parents' objections, Deap Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school dropout.
After being married 15 years, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced. Noe Schitt later married Ted Sherlock, and, because her kids were living with them, she wanted to keep her previous name. She was then known as Noe Schitt Sherlock. Meanwhile, Dip Schitt married Loda Schitt, and they produced a son with a rather nervous disposition named Chicken Schitt. Two of the other six Schitt, were inseparable throughout Happens brothers in a dual ceremony.
The wedding announcement in the newspaper announced the "Schitt-Happens nuptials."
The Schitt-Happens children were Dawg, Byrd, and Hoarce. Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world. He recently returned from Italy with his new Italian bride, Pisa Schitt.
Now, when someone says, "You don't know Jack Schitt", you can correct them.
Sincerely,

Crock O. Schitt

My Body is my Passport

Recently a friend of mind looked at my newest tattoo and said, "what the hell have you done!"
I was slightly pissed off. As if a few inches of my skin was so damn special to you! Really, did I ruin my body by marking it. Am I no good now? Have I lost value as your friend because a tiny part of my exterior changed?

She went on to describe the full mural tattoos that she likes. A full back or sleeve that is one congruent piece of art. Yes I like that too but no one picture will be important enough to me to bother getting just ONE tattoo.

I have a friend who I think is the most beautiful woman at the strip club she has a geisha and a snake tattooed on her arm. It covers her arm from wrist to the tip of her shoulder. It's so beautiful because is just looks like vibrant colours and designs until you step back to see the full picture. Every time I see her I want my arm tattooed too. The way the orange and purple dance on her arm simply mesmerises me every time.
However, a geisha and a snake? maybe it means something to her but to me it's not enough. I wouldn't put it on my body.

That's when I accidentally said, "my tattoos are like stamps, and my body is my passport"
I stopped, I had shocked myself. Damn I'm smart.
I had said my tattoos are like stamps because each one in black and thick like a stamp you'd get at a night club. (except the colour tattoo on my back) Each one marks a huge part of my life. I just noticed that my tattoos were like stamps when I got my last one, it wasn't planned. It just happened to be what I was instinctively drawn to.

I've spent weeks thinking of what to get for a sleeve tattoo and how to fill in the rest of my back. I have a hard drive full of sample images of stuff that is awesome... and in collecting all these images that go together I realised that I need to do my tattoos one at a time... piece by piece. Each tattoo marks a part of my life and  they will all come together as a work of art when I am done.
And that's the kicker right there. WHEN I AM DONE.
I'm not done living yet!
I don't know what the full picture is going to look like, because, quite frankly, I don't know where I'm going or where my life is headed. But like a passport keeps track of your journeys... so will my tattoos.


In 2010 I got my straight edge X's on my wrist. I wanted them for a long time but knowing how much my Dad hated tattoos I held off. But finally I couldn't wait any longer. It took me until that point to realise that although my Dad doesn't like tattoos. He's not stupid and wont actually hate me if I get one. Ya he'll huff n puff but he'll still love me to pieces regardless what colour my skin is. So off to the tattoo shop!!!
Being an adult entertainer I had a bad rep to start with. I wanted a way to defend myself. My true self.
I had never touched drugs. (still haven't) I didn't drink and never smoked. I liked the idea that I was always responsible for my actions. I couldn't ever make an excuse for my behaviour by blaming drugs or alcohol.
If I entered a wet t shirt competition, stole your truck and/or fucked your mom. It's cause I wanted to. After 25 years of rockin sober living I figured I was too old to start picking up "bad habits." So i tattooed it on my body. I was damn proud of it too.



In 2011, I was working at the Human Rights Conference and there was a photo booth set up for iamequal.org. Where people took pics with the "i am =" sticker and then shared their own personal stories of fighting for equality. Some people fought for gay rights, women's rights, immigration etc. But in the end. We are all human and we are all equal and it's about human rights. I love love love this idea. The idea that I am no greater or less than anyone else. So often people get on their high horse and step on others because they feel entitled. I just refuse to live that way.
I am equal.
The postman, the doctor and the stripper are all equal. The woman, the gay man and the Jewish neighbour are all equal. Our race, sexual orientation, religion, career or colour of our eyes shouldn't define our value. We are all people on this planet and no one deserves to be mistreated for another person's gain. So within days of having my photo taken for the "i am =" project I was getting it tattooed. 5 of us have it tattooed on our forearms so far. I hope other people get it tattooed as well if they feel the same.



In 2012 I finally had my family's last name tattooed. That's another one I've been thinking of forever. I just didn't know how to do it. When I was asked to host the West Coast Tattoo and Culture Show I was surrounded by tattoo positive people. So I just went for it. I booked it a day in advance and just simply had my family's last name tattooed in the only logical place I could think of... my head. My family's last name is "HEAD" so writing that anywhere else on my body would be just plain foolish! I love that my head says head. It's hilarious. Much like my straight edge tattoo "XXX" the "HEAD" tattoo make people think of porn and blow jobs. Then when we talk about it and I reveal their real meaning people are a little shocked. I like to throw in a comment about how people jump to conclusions and are so filthy minded. It's a back handed way of saying "I'm a good girl, who's proud of her family, and now you look like a perverted ass"



Most recently I got a skull tattooed on my wrist. My bros Matt and Mikey (the Granger Bros) have had matching skull tattoos for years. These two boys who I call my brothers, stumbled into my life and became my best friends over night. I can't even begin to think of two more solid people. It's rare that men stick around in my life without guile. These guys are like family. After just a few days we were blown away by how we felt like we knew each other our whole lives. They brought friendship to a whole new level. I can't even get into the power of our relationship without describing the gory details. But the coolest thing we did was take "Crazy Dracula" from a script they wrote and turned it into a hilarious short film. (Crazy Dracula Spring Break Weekend, http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/5c5511c404/crazy-dracula-spring-break-weekend) It was incredible. They called me their producer on that film but really, I just took care of my bros as best I could, simply because they were my bros and this project was important to them - therefor it was important to me. With or without the title I would have bent over backward for them to see this project through to the end. They were like family. And just like my real family I was convinced that we were capable of anything.
I was out with Matt for lunch and as we gushed about how much our friendship meant and how this last year would have been chaos with out each other... somehow we started talking about tattoos. He said, you should get this and pointed to his skull. I didn't take a moment to wonder if he was serious. I took a pic of it and was getting it tattooed within the hour.



I was watching "The Real Housewives of Vancouver" really examining the rich, glamorous women. They seem like cookie cutter images of each other. It reminded me of Stepford Wives. I don't want to be one of those women. I already am a fake doll to a certain degree. But I don't want to fear doing what I want, (aka getting tattoos) because it's not considered the proper image of a good successful lady. If these housewives are considered what is "proper" then consider me a rebel, a black sheep ...a miscreant, if you will. Because I do not want to be a dolled up drone hanging off some rich dude's arm just to prove my worth. I'd rather be a high society reject with my tattoos and piercings, too busy living life and having fun to worry about fitting into a certain mold to prove my worth.

So I was sketching out ideas for a full work of art tattoo tonight, when all of a sudden. I stopped and remembered what I had said. "my tattoos are like stamps, and my body is my passport"

I know what's next for my back tattoo. It's the only colour piece I'm doing. It'll be done by the end of this year. So I'll tell you about it later. My sleeve, however, will take years. It will be filled with the stamps just like a passport. Each one will mean a tremendous amount to me. And together they will tell the story of my life. Go ahead and disapprove. I'll be too busy living life and having fun to notice.

Wednesday 2 May 2012

those boobs of yours look ridiculous


No offense but those boobs of yours look ridiculous...lol 'Au Naturel' is way sexier...
-D.D.

Dear D.D.

Thanks for clarifying that with "no offense" that made you telling me that I don't suit your taste SOOOOOO much better. Note, my tits are smaller now than they were when I had real ones. I lost 100 lbs and filled up the skin sacks I was left with... then after tearing my pec snowboarding I had a reduction and a lift and replaced my broken, swollen, mangled tits with these implants leaving me with boobs smaller than the original ones god gave me. so sir... "au Natural" can go fuck itself.... no offense.

-S.Mack

Wednesday 18 April 2012

LOCAL STRIPPERS: and their Depraved Campaign of Seduction. The Abomination Continues...



FUCK CANCER



It has been nine years since that first dark day when local strippers began their depraved campaign of seduction to raise funds for the private parts of women. This abomination continues on Thursday, April 26th, when the den of evil called the Penthouse Night Club will host the Ninth Annual Exotic Dancers for Cancer.

Unsuspecting revelers will be lured and seduced into attending this festival of the flesh by a mere $15 donation at the door. Told they will receive “bags of porn” for arriving early and tempted by promises of swaying, naked bodies, ordinary men and women will find themselves compelled through bewitchery to witness sexual exhibitionism as if it was a form of entertainment.

Proceeds this year will go to F*ck Cancer and a local family orphaned by cancer.

In past years, charities have declined donations from the group due to its controversial method of raising funds. “Strip-a-thon” is not a common fundraiser title for most mainstream organizations. However, F*ck Cancer was more than willing to join us in our quest to heal the world, one strip show at a time!

F*ck Cancer is a global movement to change the way cancer is perceived and diagnosed by promoting early detection, prevention and cancer education. Over 90% of cancers are curable if caught in stage one - why the F*ck don’t more people know this?

For more information about the fundraiser contact Jess Rabbit at g.jess@ymail.com

Dancers 4 Cancer Calendars go on sale April 27th 2012

I'm featured in the Dancers 4 Cancer Calendar May 2012

Saturday 7 April 2012

I Can't Wait To Grow Up & Become Just Like My Mother

Me and My Mommy   Jan 2001
I was 14, my brother was 12. My Mom and Dad sat me down at the kitchen table and told me that Mom had to have a lumpectomy. I started to laugh. Silly doctors, always making big challenging names for medical stuff. But lumpectomy.... really?!?! Even I could figure that out. 
My Dad told me not to laugh, and then my Mom, in her loving Mom way, told him that it was just how I coped with difficult situations. My giggles turned to tears as she went on to explain the worst case scenario. 

A few days went by and our worst fears were confirmed. 
Mom had Cancer.

Everyday I woke up wondering if today was the day my Mom was going to die. I tried hard to pretend it wasn't happening. But every night I went to sleep thankful that my Mom made it another day but terrified that she wasn't going to wake up to see the next day. In the 90's Cancer survivors weren't as public as they are today. My teenage brain pretty much thought that the moment you had cancer, even if you had treatments, you were still going to die.

My Mom is so loved by everyone, and everyone helped out one way or another. We were really blessed.
The teachers she worked with made lunches and dinners for us and filled our freezer with food so my Mom wouldn't have to cook. (and if you've ever tasted my Dad's cooking you'd understand why we didn't want him to cook either) Her closest friends and my grandparents took us to all of our extra curricular activities and my Dad was by her side every step of the way. He held her hand, and no matter how beat up from treatments she was, he would look deep into her eyes and tell her that she was beautiful.

I remember the day he helped her save her head. It's really strange when your Mom suddenly looks like an army recruit in a nightgown. 

My Mommy and Me    Spring 1998


My Mom was always optimistic, Always smiling, always laughing. She never missed a Ballet Recital or a Martial Arts Competition. She would simply shave her head, come up with a few bald lady jokes and sit front row to cheer us on. 

She had her final chemotherapy treatment and went out to celebrate with her friends, my Dad was at work, and I was left at home to take care of my lil brother. I was told NOT TO DISTURB MOM. I was so happy. It was finally over. My mom had lived!!! Everything was going to go back to normal as soon as she finished radiation.

In the early evening the phone rang. It was the police. They asked to speak to my Mom. I said NO. She's out celebrating her final chemo treatment and I'm NOT to disturb her. I insisted that whatever it was they could just talk to me. Finally the officer gave in and told me that my Dad had been injured at work and was in the hospital. They were sending an officer to pick us up. Ok, I guess I CAN disturb Mom after all. 

So my mom's celebration was cut short by my phone call to the restaurant. Shortly afterwards a police officer picked her up from our house and I stayed home with my lil bro to wait and see IF Dad was going to come home. 

 It was a long long night. 

Finally when I was convinced that my Mom was going to live - I suddenly didn't know if my Dad was going to. WTF!!! The universe was playing a cruel trick on us. At this point all I knew is that my Dad's body was found under his car and he was now in the hospital. They wouldn't tell me if he was conscious or even alive. I prepared myself to only see my Mom come home. I thought for sure I would never see my Dad again. 

When Dad walked in the door (very slowly) with his uniform hanging  to his body (the paramedics had cut it up the sides) it all felt like a really elaborate joke was finally over. You don't know the true definition of relief until you think your parents are as good as dead and then you see them walk through the door together. This was the greatest happiness I have ever known. 

My parents never showed frustration with the crap life delt them. So neither did my lil bro and I. Mom and Dad were such great examples of courage and strength. They didn't let even the worst case scenarios destroy them. They taught me that you can't control what life throws at you but you can control how you respond.

I stopped fearing death after that. I'm pretty much convinced that my family is invincible and they're nothing we can't handle. 

"Dear Mom, 
I have yet to come across someone stronger, more courageous and more determined than you. Every day of my life you have been a perfect example of a loving wife, a understanding mother, and a loyal friend. You were able to raise two teenagers and beat cancer while Dad recovered from being smushed by a car, all without missing a beat. You inspire me everyday. And everyday I hope to become more like you. 
I love you." 
-Samantha Mack




Now I realise that not everyone has a family as awesome as mine. This is why I'm involved in Dancers 4 Cancer. We don't just donate money to a charity we split the funds with a dancer who is going through treatment or in this years case were sharing the donations with the children who's mother (our beloved costume lady) was taken by cancer not too long ago. 

It's terrifying thinking that each day could very easily be the last time you'll see your loved one alive. Thanks to Dancers 4 Cancer we can help make this difficult time just a little bit easier. I know that just one event a year isn't making a huge dent in the fight for a cure but I also know that every little bit helps. I'm not a doctor or a scientist, but I am great and attracting attention and rallying the masses. So once a year we pack the club and myself, along with dozens of exotic dancers shake, shimmy and strut to raise thousands of dollars. Like all the amazing people who came together to help out my family 14 years ago,  through Dancers 4 Cancer we can come together to help out one of our own. 


I can't wait to grow up and become just like my mother

Monday 19 March 2012

Sometimes You Have To Be Your Own Hero

I cleaned my house this week. I mean really cleaned it. I pulled everything out of each room and started from scratch. The only thing I didn't move was Muffin's food dish. I haven't touched it since he passed Dec 20th. Before he died he couldn't eat anymore. His food dish was full. I just kinda pushed it around as I cleaned. I couldn't get rid of it. I felt like if I got rid of the dishes it would mean he was really gone. I guess some part of me kept expecting him to come back. I just wanted someone else to get rid of the dishes for me.

When I grew up my Dad was always the hero. He took care of all the hard work. When he wasn't around, my little bro (who acted more like my big bro) stepped in. I grew up with a big, strong, man hero around all the time. Men were always taking care of business. I never had to do anything I didn't want to do. Oil changes, hanging Christmas lights, building stuff, fixing holes in the wall, disposing of my pet turtle's lifeless shell after a bird pecked off his head while he swam in the backyard pond... Dad, my bro, or one of the dudes I was dating always did the "man" work.

It's only when I'm alone that I cling to a hero. When I'm with others, I'm the mutha fukin hero. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of business when others are relying on me. In fact I enjoy managing chaos. I've crawled into a rolled over vehicle and held a dude in a spinal clamp till paramedics came and left covered in someone elses blood. Or the night I stitched up the strippers leg in the middle of no where. Or the night I ran into the bar where shots were being fired so I could get my co worker to safety. I've dug cars out of ditches, ripped off the shirt of my back to make a sling for someone else. I've stayed up all night and day to keep my friends company in the hospital when they were scared out of their mind. As much as I'm instinctualy the hero for others, I've never considered taking care of business on my own, for myself, till now.

and Now I'm in the city alone (and single for the first time since I was 18.) No big, strong, man to save this damsel anymore. When sucky, crappy work has to be done... it's just me. So this morning I picked up Muffin's dog dishes for the first time in 3 months, and I gathered his toys. No one was gonna save me from how much this was going to suck. No one was going to magically show up and make all his dog stuff vanish when I wasn't looking. I had to rip off the figurative band aid myself. I knew that just touching that food dish would cause me to choke back tears.
But It was time to move on. Even though I wasn't ready.
By holding on I was holding myself back.

Doing the big grown up thing sucks sometimes.

So now my home looks like it came from the pages a magazine. No dog dishes, no leash at the door. Just a nice clean house for this damsel. Don't know what I'm gonna do with myself. But I'll have to figure it out pretty quickly the next time I'm tied to train tracks.

Friday 2 March 2012

How



The Photo that documents the happiest day of my life April 20th 2010
at the Telus WORLD Ski and Snowboard Festival
Samantha is used to living as a public figure, and entertainer. She lives for the show.  Her natural energy and positive, unstoppable attitude is an assets to the events she hosts and performs at. A true professional. This girl gets the job done with style and pizzazz like no other!!!


THE SAMANTHA MACK is known as one of Vancouver's finest entertainers, Internet sensations, radio personalities, philanthropists, emcees, spokes models and of course living close to Whistler BC the queen of the snowboard!! You can find Samantha at all of the biggest, bestest, and brightest events that Vancouver and all of BC has to offer!!

7 years ago Samantha moved to Vancouver and quickly went from Lifeguard to Showgirl. She's travelled all over North America with her various shows. Her dynamic shows quickly took her out off the make shift stages in bars and into theatres, Night Clubs, Gay Bars, Private Events, Dinner Theatres, Fetish Clubs, Conventions and Expos. Her largest audience was for Approx 5000 people where she performed a Jekyll and Hyde theme show with a shadow wall, a trapeze style bondage show and fire.

Soon after taking to the stage, she found herself holding the microphone. Her quick wit and pure sass had audiences loving everything that came out of her mouth.

You can frequently hear her on CiTR Radio, where she was a host of Vancouver's QueerFM for 2 years. If you're looking for her, you can spot her at the Taboo Sex Expo in Vancouver and the Naughty But Nice Show in the Fraser Valley, highlighted in The Ryan Steele Show, hosting the Tattoo convention, singing at the Rhinestone Stiletto Show, dancing, and breathing fire at the Exotic Circus, Hosting parties at Winter Pride in Whistler, and making jokes with Patrick Maliha on the XXX Comedy Show!!
One of the biggest and most dynamic personalities that you will see and not one to be missed!!


Behind the Scenes constructing the trapeze for a summer performance!!!

Thursday 1 March 2012

My Opinion on PORN

Hey Samantha, just wondering your opinion on porn. My girlfriend is basically banning me from it. She doesn't want me watching it at all, wants to sell a few DVDs that I have (why buy when we have pornhub?) Here's her reasoning, apparently studies show that men who watch porn are more likely to cheat, and I don't think she understands "alone time" she has stated she's never masturbated so maybe s...he doesn't really get it, we've been together for over a year and she's know I've watched porn when she met me. I'm open about it, its just fantasy and its nice to have some alone time once in a while or on drought week. Sex is amazing with her and I don't want to cheat on her. I just figured being that your awesome and very open about these types of things, I'm wondering your opinion.
OK well first of all. Every time you admit to watching free porn. It PISSES ME OFF!!! Adult Entertainers get paid per download. Their rent check is based on people NOT stealing their freaking videos and handing them out for free!!! But that being said. I'm sure we've all "accidentally" watched free porn at some point.
grrrrr, now that's off my chest....
Watching Porn = Cheating
OK, let me say this strictly from MY point of view. If your man unloads his (insert funny way to say ball sack here) at home before going out it's unlikely that he'll be horny when he goes out. I think porn is a great way to keep your man and improve your sex life. And let's face it, some of those pornos have some amazing moves that I hope my man will study and try on me!!!
However, having been a insecure girlfriend before. What she's really saying is "don't think those girls are prettier than me and lose interest in me. I love you and want so badly to be enough for you but I don't think I can hold a candle to those cum covered, glam dolls with a both a pleased and flawless look on their face when they tastes that bitter, warm, gooey spunk while that dick plays target practise with their uvula."  
Problem: she says watching porn = cheating.
Real Problem: She doesn't want to lose you and is worried you like the porn girls more than her
Simple Solution: Don't watch porn
Real Solution: Reassurance, honesty, and trust
NOW let's talk about masturbation!!!
It's good!!! DAMN GOOOD!!!
It can improve self-esteem by helping people become more confident in their sexuality and more aware of their bodies.
She said she DOESN'T masturbate?????
GIRL GET IT ON WITH YOUR SELF!!! How do you get to sleep at night??? Masturbation is incredible (if you're doing it right.) If you can't work your machine you have no right to complain if your partner can't do it for you. And the endorphin release is sooooooo worth it.
Reasons to masturbate:
1) GET RID OF STRESS
 Escaping from your busy life for some "YOU" time is necessary. Some people meditate, I prefer to masturbate. Particularly when used with sexual fantasy, masturbation can be a great escape, a way to let off some steam, and while masturbation alone might not be enough to deal with all the stress in your life, it’s a healthy, free, and non-pharmaceutical tool right at your fingertips.
2) PAIN RELIEF
Whether you’re experiencing temporary or chronic pain from sore joints, headaches, menstrual cramps, or other causes, masturbation and orgasm can, in some cases, provide natural pain relief.
3) GO TO SLEEP
While thinking about sex might keep you up at night, having it, including masturbation, is a great way to deal with insomnia.Whether it’s because of the hormones and endorphins released following orgasm, the benefits of clearing your head, or the mini cardio workout, masturbation that ends in orgasm is a great way to get to sleep without pills, television, or counting sheep.
4) SELF KNOWLEDGE
Masturbation is the safest, and best way to get to know how your sexual body works. You can learn what turns you on and what doesn’t. You can learn how to give yourself sexual pleasure in a hurry, or when you’ve got nothing but time. You must practise your art before becoming the master! If you want to be good in bed... practise, practise, practise!!!
Now you also said, "Sex is amazing with her and I don't want to cheat on her"
GREAT!!! NOW TELL HER!!! Tell her over and over again until she believes it!
I've been that girl who feels threatened every time my man's eyes were on another woman. But I've also been that girl naked on stage. The reality of it is, the girl in the magazine, or on the TV or computer screen, WILL NOT SUDDENLY COME TO LIFE and rip your man out of your loyal loving arms. She, lets call her porn girl, doesn't know he exists, and she doesn't give a shit about him, his dick or what he can do with it.
Most problems in relationships come from fear, a lack of confidence/self esteem.
WOMAN I AM TALKING TO YOU! Your man is with you for a reason. and it's great that he enjoys his sexuality. IT'S fantastic that when he can't have you he ONLY enjoys himself. It's amazing that he can fantasize!!! These are GOOD!!!
SIR I AM NOW TALKING TO YOU!!!
Your woman loves you and is terrified she's going to lose you. Open your big mouth and tell her she's your everything. Show her she turns you on. Share the joy of porn with her. DO NOT HIDE YOUR PORN!!! DO NOT LIE ABOUT IT. The key to your success here is to make her trust you. If you lie and hide it from her and she finds out you'll be in a huge battle and the sex no matter how good, might be gone forever!!!
Now my da'lings. GO touch, lick, kiss, stroke, FUCK!!!! Get out of your apprehensive, head space and FEEL, just feel!!! Enjoy what feels good!!! Explore. It's OK to giggle. It's OK to not know what you're doing! ASK questions, try new things!
Take it to the next level... MAKE YOUR OWN PORNO!!!!!! Take sexy pictures together! BE the person in your lover's fantasy. Dress up, roll play.
But most of all
HAVE FUN dirty, raunchy fun. the kind of fun you can only have behind closed doors!!!
as Nike would say, JUST DO IT!


Tuesday 28 February 2012

Using a Spoon to Dig a Pool?!?!?!?

My girlfriend has a beautiful blog that I suggest you kinky, open minded people read.
Heck you narrow minded jerk offs should read it too. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about judging people.
This situation reminds me of Ms. Peachey "The...se immoral acts are the reason ALL past civilizations fellen." (Gerta Peachey on getting The Taboo Sex Show stopped before it destroys us all.)
People far too often make assumptions based on fear of the unknown. Instead of judging a book my it's cover why not give it a read. Books were designed to be read not viewed as art on a wall.
Making assuptions and judgments about people is about as useful as using a spoon to dig your new backyard pool. (You'll huff n puff and put in a lot of work just to look like an idiot in the end)

Tonight We Dance

THE RHINESTONE STILETTO SHOW!!!
Hosted by my sister Sienna Blaze. Each Tuesday night the Vancouver Drag Queens and I get together to put on a show unlike any other. There's no seperate stage area so once in a while a fearless drunk upstages the queen. It's beyond hilarious, and beyond uncomfortable. But like I said, It's like no show you've ever seen before. We sing and dance and flirt with the boys and girls. Sometimes people chug booze to win prizes and sometimes a willing volunteer gets covered in hot wax. It's always unpredictable and always amazing. No two weeks are alike. It's guaranteed to be a night you may or may not remember. ;)
I love these nights. I bring out new material. I try things just for shits n giggles. The audience is amazing and puts up with me being off key, forgetting words, jumping on tables and pouring massage oil on a random man or woman's hot body. Sometimes I nail it. But other times I'm thankful that the audience is too drunk to notice. But most importantly I'm happy that we can all come together to raise money for the Rainbow Refugee Fund and a Loveing Spoonful, which helps people living with Aids in our community. I love that I get to have a heck of a lot of fun and support a good cause.

So back to my costume closet to figure out what I'm gonna wear tonight to dazzle the masses. It's Showtime!