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 

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 

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.

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

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

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