February 2012
26 posts
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I AM THE BLUE PILL
I woke up this morning to the most fantastic email from my best friend, comic genius and non-stripper, Gen. I’d like to share it with you.
yo girl i had this dream last night that you and i were strippers/performers in post-apocalyptical montreal. i’ve dreamt about montreal in that way before, where everything is sloping into the river and in shambles. IT was nuts. we used...
I hate Female Chauvinist Pigs so far.
It was a painful read. Plenty of “WTF”s in the margins. Not worth the read. I got nothing out of it.
canyrpussydothedog:
Fuck your anti-sex work slut shaming, Ariel Levy.
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Dancing at the Blue Iguana: The Verdict
First and foremost, I would like to say that whoever spliced together should be sued for false advertising.
Dancing at the Blue Iguana Trailer
Unlike Striptease, this movie is a total. fucking. downer.
I wasn’t even DRUNK whilst watching Sandra Oh be the megababe that she is yet still I struggle to jog my memory for a moment that isn’t making strippers look like sad and destitute...
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NEW MEX-I-CAN STRIP TALES
Last night marked my debut with Jessica on the New Mexican strip club scene.
Being the heathen that I am, I didn’t consider the fact that yesterday also marked the first day of Lent.
I walk in to the dressing room that is populated with one other dancer. Her name is Carla, she’s a beautiful, petite Native American who has grandchildren she is planning to take on a hike this...
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Meeting, and subsequently falling in love with...
So you’re not working?
No, not really. Well, I will be, soon.
You’re writing?
Yes.
All day?
I try to.
Do you have any friends in this new city?
No, not really. Well, one, maybe. There’s this guy at the burrito place around the corner. He always gives me extra hot sauce without charging…
What do you do all day?
I start work again tomorrow. I’m excited!
But,...
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Since there is no 'dislike' button, you can now... →
The Sapphic Stripper is now on facebook!
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Fresh Meat
Last night I shaved my legs, got on a bus and rode it along the freeway to this small town’s only strip club.
Fact: I cannot go very long without money and male attention; they have, admittedly, become my oxygen.
“Hi, I’d like to audition.”
“We don’t really audition,” the doorman tells me. “We just need you to fill out some paperwork and...
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Charlotte Rampling, Be Mine
How was your day of self-love and devotion?
Mine was fucking fantastic. I ate chocolate, double-clicked my mouse and watched The Night Porter (1971).
It was so fucked up and freaky and dear brother did it ever turn me on.
Rather than manically obsess over what sort of daddy issues I have that caused me to find this film so fucking sexy, I’m going to go and masturbate again. Happy...
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Moments like these
Make me wish I was still in New York.
Juergen Teller has a new show that is allegedly controversial because it depicts women (and men) who are over the age of 25 posing ‘provocatively.’ People of all ages should be recognized as sexual beings, not just the anorexic sixteen-year-olds.
I can’t find the quotation, but Tom Ford said something really beautiful in French Vogue...
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Strip club parlance
You know what I miss?
I miss old Aussie men who would continually call me “SENSATIONAL.” Whenever I would drop trow and bend over, they’d saunter up to the stage as I grab my ankles, and they’d whisper in a sweet singsong to me between my legs, “You’re just senSAtional, Iris.” And then they’d stimulate my garter belt with a 5, 10, 20 or...
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INVISIBLE LESBIAN SEEKS SAME
New City! New Cunts!
And by that I mean that my infallible confidence with which I approach my career and cocktail party embarrassments is inversely proportionate to my zeal in the swindling of lady hearts.
I identify as an invisible lesbian. I love queers and I love all my friends who love knitting and grey water and inner arm tattoos. I, however, don’t ascribe to the queer aesthetic like...
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Striptease: THE VERDICT
It just so happens that this movie was WAYYYYY funnier than I had anticipated.
I had a great time watching it in the company of a jar of almond butter.
As a seasoned stripper, I’d like share with the world some very important opinions I have regarding the realisticness and relatability of the role of Erin Grant (played by megababe Demi Moore)
Things to which I can relate:
The bouncer...
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Dead Legs
I’ve been off the pole for nearly two weeks.
I’ve eaten a lot of birthday cake, let my leg hair go from prickly to soft and I have every intention of going out tomorrow to buy a pair or seven of Real Girl underwear.
Here’s the thing:
I wake up in the morning and can’t feel my legs. They are so worn out from doing eight-hour wall sits on slacked boners that they seem to...
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BIRTHDAYS, ETC
My birthday was on Monday.
I am now twenty five fucking years old.
I have not since blogged because I’ve been drunk the entire time.
I have also left New York and now write from my mother’s suburban couch the tales of my titillations.
One sunny, drunken afternoon, two of my dearest friends drank sparkling rosé and pursued the conundrums of MARRY FUCK KILL on a cocktail napkin.
I...
January 2012
14 posts
6 tags
FUCKABLE VS. FUCK OFF, I'M BUSY
Oh, Glamour Magazine, you’ve gone and done it again.
Today I had delivered on my doorstep THE GUYS & SEX ISSUE of Glamour Magazine. It goes without saying that I nearly peed my finger-banging panties. I guess the former tenant still hasn’t cancelled her subscription. Or maybe she just doesn’t want to receive it at her new address. Who could blame her.
Thank you so much,...
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TO CLARIFY
Inquiring about my last post, my dear fried Chris asked,
“what IS that? in the post? a tampon!?”
To which I responded,
“THOSE ARE DRUGS.”
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Thank fuck I can't get pregnant*
*without a turkey baster.
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For my second day of staycationing in Brooklyn, I’ve chosen to eat a lot of Baba Ganoush and get re-acquainted with my old photos and scanner. As I was leafing through images featuring me and my naked, glittered body prancing along a desert plane, I received a most compelling text message from my beloved roommate:
Roommate: “Hey Iris, I put your...
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HERETOFORE UNEMPLOYED
I am writing from a state of mild sedation, sitting on my couch, completely overcome by the magic of Lucy’s fingers.
Lucy is not my girlfriend, lover, or blow-up doll.
Lucy is my masseuse. She just rubbed me down for eighty fucking minutes because
Yesterday marked my last day as a New York City stripper.
(for now)
I cried.
I cried because the club was bereft of patrons with any sort...
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Monday Night
Man:
“You look bored.”
“Excuse me?”
Never admit to looking bored, feeling tired, upset, lonely, vulnerable in any way.
“You look bored.”
“It’s quiet. It’s a Monday. I’m just taking a moment for myself.”
“You look bored.”
“How are you?” I inquire with a desperate gathering of strength and sparkle. ...
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Lost & Found
Yesterday I got to work, unpacked my dress, g-strings, warpaint, perfume and clutch only to notice that I had forgotten. my. shoes.
Shoes are the single-most thing a stripper cannot. do. without.
There was a time where I believed I could not possibly step onto the stage and hustle my scrilla without my French perfume and scarlet-red signature pout. It turns out that, although whale-blubber...
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A cautionary message for lesbians everywhere
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Getting positive attention from strippers: A...
Smile.
Be polite.
Accept that Destiny, Crystal or Bubbles are our real names. Because, for at least the next few hours, they are.
Shower. I know, this seems like a given. But, two times out of seven, patrons smell like hangover, ball-sweat and deep fried mozzarella sticks.
Brush your teeth and gargle that rancid stench from beneath your tongue and between your molars. If you’re a...
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Notes taken yesterday:
Guy who gives you a dollar just to hug you. He smells really bad.
Sephora Spin class
Bisexual man and his gay husband come in
“Your eyes are the same color as my Porshe” - Gio
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Novel Civil Disobedience
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Fellow Alumnus
Last night someone caught on to the fact that I was educated and deigned to ask me from which third-tier university I earned my degree.
“From McGill. It’s in Montreal.” I reply.
My client, a mid-twenties banker bedazzled in cashmere, chokes on his whiskey-coke.
“I went to McGill,” he says, his voice cracking.”When did you graduate?”
“May 2009....
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Be it resolved that, in 2012...
Of course, the New Year means that everyone is fighting off their hangovers and trying REALLY. HARD. to keep their vices (read: topless titty shakers) at bay.
This means that while at work, I have lots of time to scribble in my notebook, just like Harriett the Spy.
If these goals seem derivative, stop reading. If you’re stoked, please share with me your inspiring cuntfabulousness and...
December 2011
14 posts
7 tags
Shackled in Palm Springs, CA
I’ve been in Palm Springs, CA, with the most absurd combination of saints and assholes.
Of course, everyone’s family drama is a long and sordid story that is not worth explaining in finite detail, as we both have other things to do, like watch My Cousin Vinny in the Phoenix airport. The long and the short of it is that my aunt has an uber rich fuckwit of a boyfriend who has paid...
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I can't feel my legs
It’s the last day before my SIX DAY VACATION.
I’m beyond thrilled.
Christmas time is the busiest time of year for strippers. All of the suits come out to play, Benjamins bring my wallet to burst at the seams and cocaine falls from the sky.
Oh, wait, it’s not the eighties anymore.
The next Depression is imminent. Strippers will be the first to tell you. My suits, that...
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STRIPPER WISH LIST
Do you know a stripper? If you’re reading this, you probably do. Do you need to buy her something special for the Christmakwanzakkah season and this bitch buys everything she wants the second she realizes that she wants it and it seems as though there is nothing left to get her?
I got some tips, y’all:
A Massage. Or if you want in on some sensual fun, too, then a couples’...
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PIMP WANTS A TAX BREAK
“Strip Club Argues That Lap Dancing Is Art, Wants Tax Exemption”
The Gothamist has recently reported that our pimps don’t want to pay such high taxes.
I have a lot of feelings about this.
First, I don’t know any strippers who DO pay their taxes. (Actually, that’s not true: I know one.) This point is kind of irrelevant, as the article doesn’t have anything...
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VIOLETS IN THE HOOD
You know you’re a strippophile when you go to a strip club on your night off.
Last night I was accompanied by my darling friend and newfangled stripper enthusiast, Ronnie, to a wine bar. We decided that the tannins and its so-called ‘legs’ we boring so we went to see some real legs, investigating how much tastier they can truly be as they ripen with age.
We went here:
...
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