A NEW AND SERIOUSLY REVOLUTIONARY DISCOVERY
Every day we learn something new. This morning, I learned that, for a staggeringly high price, you can buy fantasy portraits of menopausal celebrities. Neat! Yesterday, however, I learned something even RADDER: It’s a new secret that I am just itching to share with strippers everywhere: PRICKLY LEGS ARE A GODSEND. When you’re sitting with a client, giggling, smiling, and...
Today (or was it yesterday? Tragically, my diaries journals are in storage.) marks the THIRD YEAR OF MY GASH FLASHING. Three years ago some lovely fat man paid me my first $50 to get my kit off and I tell you I’ve really been the happiest cunt since then. At first I thought to myself I’d give it a few months, buy some diamonds and then be done with it. Six months turned into a...
This is totally fucking rad. To shut up some haters when justifying herself as a titty-shaker to the internet, my redditor babe Menagerii took a jpeg of a nightly hull: I don’t ever disclose how much I make to anyone, but sometimes there is no other way to tell someone to go right ahead and fuck themselves. Behold 3,345 hard-earned dollars. When a client asks how much money I make, I...
OLIVIA WILDE TOUCHED MY TITS*
*Kidding But two strippers just had the best night of their life cuz this happened: And where was I? On a bad acid trip. Seriously guys, never take Mexican acid. Usually I don’t suffer from typical New Yorker FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out), but I think I’ve decided now that since it’s REALLY trendy for actresses to come out as bisexual, and how it’s REALLY trendy to get...
I AM FUCKING YOUR WIFE
One of the great things about being a stripper is all the free time you have. I work three days a week, seven months a year. Most of this free time is spent doing frivolous things like picking my cuticles, looking at recipes I will never attempt, and masturbating. Recently, however, I started doing structured bitch-work, which most people commonly refer to as an Internship. It turns out I LOVE...
The Strip Game: The Verdict
You wouldn’t believe the gold mine one can so easily unearth when the letters S - T - R - I - P are typed into your Netflix search engine. Back in middle school I heard the name Method Man bounce around the lunchroom as I fiddled with Jewel’s Pieces of You spinning and skipping in my allegedly SHOCK-PROOF discman. I still don’t know anything about his jams or raps but what’s important is that I...
SAPPHIC STRIPPER, JOB CANDIDATE!
Happy New Year, Friends! Be it resolved that, in 2013, I shall earn at least one (1) dollar for my words and not my wiles. It’s been nearly three years since I’ve hit the pavement with a resume and not a pair of stilettos in my tote bag. Today I’m sat in a cafe, drafting up a coherent list of all the skills I’ve learned as a dancing naked lady. That’s right....
It’s 6:15pm. The club just opened and four keeners* have already waltzed through the door and saddled up at the bar. One, a Business Man suited in grey. Within thirty seconds of his entrance he has been sidecarred by two Colombian mamas. The remaining three are t-shirted, red faced and cacophonous on the opposite side of the bar. From my perch downwind and in the corner, my schnoz is telling...
My two favourite things
In honour of the day of the lord, last night I combined the two things I worship most: France and Whores. (Come on, it’s totally obvious that she has a bangin’ bod under those robes) Juliette Binoche, formerly known as the gypsy-bagging chocolate minx, remember her? In Elles, she’s all bougie and journalisty and flustered since it’s obvious within the first twenty two...
AND BLEED SHE DID
In my last post, I accused someone I’ve never met of being afraid of a bloody cunt. In this post I shall continue to do so. The clock struck nine and I was straddling this stranger. I got up to collect my greenback from his overexcited fist when I knew. Something. is moving down there. Arms straight, legs straighter, I scissor kicked my way to the ladies room and shoved some...
Hearting my rag
As a militant feminist, it has come to my attention that I do not talk enough about my period. Since it’s almost ragtime for this sapphic stripper, I thought I’d make this post all about yours and my Menstrual Blood. LET’S ALL CHOKE ON IT TOGETHER. My friend Sophie recently told me that some babe did a study where she rubbed used maxi pads on various seats inside a movie...
The Secret Breed of Super-Freaks
It’s my first day back. While deflecting propositions to ‘just cuddle’ back in this geriatric’s hotel room, I end up raking in some SERIOUS FUCKING SCRILLA ( !!! ) all the while pulling a hamstring. While flopping my gams into a spread eagle on stage, a pang sears the back of my right leg as I scold myself for not keeping up with my lunges, squats and stretches on my...
I haven't tried this one yet.
I just got back to New York and I’m about to start sampling new clubs. You know what this means? NEW STRIPPER NAMES ARE A-BREWIN’! I’ve exhausted so many in the past two years (my two-year stripper-versary is fast approaching, y’all) and I need a new one. So, naturally, I’ve consulted the internet, in addition to a handful of real-life friends. After a litany...
FLASHDANCE: The Verdict
It saddens me to admit that I forgot how fucking amazing this movie is. Never mind that Bette Porter is kind of my idol, and that I think all stripper movies are amazing even if Rottentomatoes.com disagrees, FLASHDANCE FUCKING ROCKS. And here’s why: Alex throws her shoe like a champ when she finds out her date, totally, like, LIED to her. Now it’s time for your favourite part of my...
I’m back in suburbia with a fresh stack of business cards, and I’m off to my unofficial university reunion tonight, followed by a semi-official high school reunion tomorrow night. Fortunately, I am pretty thirsty these days so I’ll have some champagne and cocainechow mein to carry me thought the ‘oh my god it’s been ages” *air kiss* *let’s not pretend that...
SOUNDTRACK OF SOBS
Man Camp is coming to a close. Remember how I said there were four girls and eight tits for hundreds of miles around? Well that number has shrunken and the only fun bags to entertain the oil troopers are those of yours truly. That’s right. I am the only lady left at Man Camp. It’s a little overwhelming. My wallet is happy, but the rest of me is having a hard time processing...
Man Camp Shopping Spree!
Man Camp is a pretty fucking depressing place. I look out at the grey skies from my basement hotel room window and don’t want to go outside for fear of being honked at by half-tonne trucks whizzing by. The money is good, but on all other accounts I’d probably rather try to make it to second base with Edward Scissorhands than deal with these Rig Pigs for another week. I mean look at...
THE LOONIE TOSS
There are a lot of great things about working at Man Camp. All the lonely guys who walk into the bar have money, and they’re eager to spend it. And you don’t have to sell anything ‘special’ because you’re already fucking special for showing up. It’s easy to make money. And a big part of this ‘easy money’ is due to the fact that at least once a...
The Wrestler: the verdict
Usually, it takes me at least three years to catch up on the Oscar-nominated film circuit. I like them to age a little, and, well, they’re easier to find on my friend’s netflix account when the hype has waned. Marisa Tomei is a total fucking babe. She always will be. In the movie, I was SHOCKED to see some of the strip-club patrons giving her shit about her age. Personally, if I were...
Man Camper's Day Off
Yesterday I took a tour of a town that is touted as having the most millionaires per capita in all of C-A-N-A-D-A. It’s real purdyy here. After I took this photo I went to eat a AAA-Grade Albertan Sirloin (medium-rare), but given the fact that I absolutely fucking HATE pictures of Hey-I-ate-this-today-neat-eh? I have refrained from including the carcass in this otherwise thrilling post. ...
I can’t believe that it’s been nearly a year since I’ve flashed my gash for cash. I left Melbourne last April. Since then I’ve been naked in the New states of Mexico and York where your pussy stays bundled up in its g-string. NOT IN ALBERTA. She’s out and ready to smile at everyone. It’s an easy, breezy and beautiful way to make fast cash. Last night, I...
I just survived my first night of Man Camp, Canada. (not actually Man Camp, Canada but not unlike Man Camp, Canada) It’s the only strip club for hundreds of kilometres in the middle of the oil fields. Yes, there are a lot of meth heads. Yes, I had loonies thrown at my bits. And yes, I most certainly did made a fucking mint. There are four strippers. That’s eight tits for...
Thank you, New Mexico, you've been Vagical
I’m at the Albuquerque Sunport (not to be confused with the airport. There is no airport here. Planes fly into the Sunport. I like this). I am reflecting on Georiga O’Keeffe’s vagestic flower-paintings and can’t wait to come back with a Volvo station-wagon and ten grand to lay down on a foreclosed adobe that I shall name Villa Villekula. I’m heading back to my...
Exit Strategies and Shopping Sprees
I’ve had my dear friend Fern drop into town. Together, we have spent the past week falling in love with an autistic barista and teaching ourselves to read Tarot. Needless to say, I’ve been a negligent blog-o-babe. Tonight it my last night in Small Town, New Fucking Mexico. It’s been a blast. It’s been restful. It’s been lip-chappingly delightful. Tomorrow I will take...
Hick vs. Hipster
Last night I danced for a guy with the reddest beard I have ever seen. He had bad teeth, a sleeve of some sort of maybe-tribal designs, and called me “ma’am.” At first I thought he was just some hipster boy. And, as all strippers know, hipster boys don’t have any money, and if they do, they would rather spend it on beard-wax and mdma than on a stripper. So I avoided him. ...
As you may know, I’m a little bit in love with the idea of running away with the circus. Especially if it’s a feminist freak show of sorts. While I’m tapping away at Chapter 12, I rewarded myself with a break from writing about grabby female Chinese tour groups, thinking I’d share with you the genius of Susan Meiselas. She photographed circus girls in the 60’s and...
The internet is such a great place for sharing...
ashelf replied to your post: SHOWGIRLS: THE VERDICT Coke bullet on a necklace is the product you’re looking for
SHOWGIRLS: THE VERDICT
NOMI MALONE IS PREGGERS, Y’ALL! If you don’t know who Nomi Malone is, I don’t know why the fuck you’re reading this blog. Of course, I don’t really mean that. I am happy to educate you. Nomi Malone is an epileptic dancer in the movie Showgirls. In real life, she goes by Jessie Spano and Elizabeth Berkley. Jessie Spano was the feminist in Saved by the Bell....
I don’t know about y’all, but I have a lot of stripper dreams. Sometimes I dream that I got a boob job or a tramp stamp of a sprawling and obscure constellation of stars from another galaxy (so it just looks like measles), and in my dream I proceed to freak out as my siliconed chest grows heavy with regret. It’s bizarre. I’m not a woman of regret, nor am I a woman to get...
SPENT THE DAY HERE
I don’t know who christened this pussy ranch, but even though Say Something Nice On The Internet Day is over, I’d like to give s’him an AMEN. And guess fucking WHAT, cunts? THIS PLACE IS FOR SALE. I am currently seeking a financially submissive male to buy it for me. If you think you are a worthy candidate, please respond to sapphicstripper [at] gmail [dot] com with a...
Closer to God in Heels.
COME AND WORSHIP. artoftranslation:
Today is Say Something Nice on the Internet Day. I will skip over the fact that I have several reservations about it being held on February 29th, which we will not see again until 2016, and move on to start sharing with you a list of people to whom I wish to say nice things: Thank you, Amelia “I want to do it because I want to do it” Earhart, for basically telling people to fuck...
POETRY SLAMMING MY FIST IN YOUR FACE
I don’t work until Thursday so, for the moment, I don’t have any stories of pinky-sized boners poking into my back. I’m sorry. What I DO have is a new poem I wrote. Actually, they’re closer to song lyrics. I wrote them for my friend, Gen. Remember her? In addition to being a brilliant stick-man cartoonist, she also has a mad set of pipes. I was telling her she needs...
Blinded by Boners
So Jessica and I are the hottest tag-team in New Mexico. We are killing it. On Friday, I showed up to work, pulled her out of her little box, slipped off her hairnet and brushed those locks to pre-fuck-porn-star perfection. Jessica is hot. Yes, I know, she’s sexy, but she’s fucking steaming up the back of my neck. I’m not used to having hair cascade around my shoulders....