February 2012
32 posts
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Something Nice
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...
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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...
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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....
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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...