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."
Friday, 31 August 2012
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.
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.
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.
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
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"
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/
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.
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.
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.
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