Dr. Brooke Magnanti, a specialist in developmental neurotoxicology and cancer epidemiology in a hospital research group in Bristol, has revealed that she is the woman they call Belle de Jour, high class call girl and blogger/author. Fascinating! Well, maybe just to me, because I’m a sucker for secret lives and obvious contradictions.

Judging from her picture (and btw, on which occasion was this picture taken – did she dress in underwear to give her announcement more credibility when she revealed her alter ego, or did she at some point enter the hottest scientist contest, or some charity underwear fashion show or what?!), it’s no wonder she used to make £300 an hour doing what she did. And she says she enjoyed it and even somewhat misses it. And her reasoning seems sound; she needed fast and easy money and prostitution offered just that, leaving her enough time to concentrate on building her real career. But no matter how noteworthy her scientific career might be, can it survive this or will she now forever be known as the ex-prostitute/scientist?

Makes you wonder, doesn’t it. If I was in absolute dire straits I think I could definitely consider stripping, but to actually let someone touch me for money… That thought is repulsive and unthinkable beyond words. I already find it incredibly annoying and offensive if someone grabs my ass at a bar. But leering looks on the other hand are just fine. So if all else fails, stripping shall be my plan-B career.

This new Pringles ad is ludicrous!

It is with a heavy heart that I present to you more evidence of how amateur pole dancing has again ruined an event for everyone… *sigh*… where are this girl’s friends?

P.S. You have to watch the entire video.

Amateur pole dancing gone wrong… again

Amateur pole dancing works for the where-are-her-friends procrastinator for:

x Passing time while talking on the phone

x Watching trash tv

x On the train, bus, car… public transport

x Good detox … after work, while writing a paper…

x Good to lull to bed

x Stop and Restart

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This is more of a memory than a typical fantasy.

Within a few months of meeting my future husband, I arranged my work schedule so I could have three to four days a week off. Since he lived 150 miles away, this allowed me to visit him for half the week.

During these visits we played games (among other things). One of these games was Magic: the Gathering, a collectible card game in which each player uses their cards to try to reduce the opponent’s life score from twenty to zero. Being horny, we soon began playing strip Magic. I forget the rules, but I suspect whoever lost a match lost a garment. Once naked, a player could then wager a forfeit, meaning the winner got the loser to perform a sexual favor. Now that’s the kind of game everyone wins!

Tags: Ada, MfM, games, Magic, MtG, Magic the Gathering, CCG, stripping

Tammy Wynette said it well really. Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman (I’ll selectively ignore the rest of her song lyrics for the purpose of this blog). But she had a point. It is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining – I’m not saying I want to start pissing standing up or take testosterone replacement, but I feel quite justified in my right to moan about the burdens that womanhood has placed on my shoulders.

I attended a discussion group recently. The topic was whether lesbians in this country should care about lesbians in other countries – where approaches are more hostile – and what we should do about it. The question prompted a variety of responses. In the main, it was heartening to hear that people cared; they wanted to help, but weren’t sure how. The idea of setting up a human trafficking ring to bring over Nigerian lesbians was raised, but as with most good ideas, practicality reared its ugly head. We just aren’t well connected enough to the underworld of London.

But what of those people who are subjected in other countries to harsh and often brutal responses to their sexuality? How exactly can we help? It’s not like hunger or poverty – I can’t just pack an old shoebox full of unwanted toys and clothes and send it off with a wing and a prayer. With the exception of talking/writing and, in doing so, raising awareness, there’s very little I personally can do that is short of packing my rucksack and heading off with a ‘Gay and Proud’ placard and a big red target painted on my back.

It’s a depressing thought and a sobering one at that – I am lucky. Sure, it was tough telling my Dad that I thought that rather than saving up for a wedding he should start a fund for IVF if he ever wanted a grandchild, however, my life is not in danger and I am not persecuted for my beliefs.

It was with interest that I listened to one person explaining that we should leave some matters up to the people in their own country to sort out. This caused some outrage, but I remained quiet, not sure what to make of such a statement. The person argued that, if such laws (such as anti-gay legislation) had been voted in by the people of the country, or the main religious movement there dictated that it was wrong, it wasn’t for us to go over with our rainbow flags and demand change. What about the gay people who are born into that sort of country, some asked. ‘They can just leave and come here or somewhere more tolerant.’

This is exactly the sort of argument that some people base their anti-Iraq sentiments on – it’s not up to us to go sorting out other countries’ issues and problems based on our own principles of democracy. There is some logic in this perhaps. It would certainly lead to less conflicts and an easier life for people over here.

However, this laissez-faire attitude is like putting the brakes on world development. It’s the ‘let someone else worry about that because it doesn’t affect me’ kind of thought that allows bad stuff to continue and gain momentum, making it not just bad but terrifying.

Sure, it’s not really my problem that there’s a lesbian in Iran living in fear because it’s against her religion to be attracted to women. She might get beaten for it. She may just have to shut up, shut down, spend her life in denial/hiding. What can I do about it? I’ll just thank my lucky stars that geography saved me from a life of misery.

I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. It just doesn’t feel right to turn a blind eye. How on earth will things ever improve if we don’t consider the world as a global community, as opposed to one fragmented by man-made borders that our ancestors gave names to?

As a lesbian, you are given a label. I am therefore more likely to be interested in the lives and fates of others like myself. But going back to my original point (if you can remember back that far!), what about my role as a woman? Surely there’s enough other women that I don’t have to care too much about their rights – I’ve got enough on my plate with gay issues haven’t I? Yet another question that I find hard to answer and one that arose from the discussion group.

While talking about the persecution of gay people abroad, we stumbled across the subject of strip clubs. There was a general consensus in the room that, as women who like women, we should care about women’s issues. It’s a fairly logical argument I suppose, but not everyone agreed. Despite the common conception that many lesbians are avid feminists, many aren’t much interested in the rights of women beyond their own sphere of influence. It got me thinking… should lesbians be expected to carry the torch of women’s rights moreso than any other woman? Historically, yes, this has often been the case, giving many lesbians their atypical ‘man-hating’ label in the process.

The subject arose when it was discussed that a lesbian club in London featured women pole-dancing and stripping. ‘So what?’ argued one woman. ‘Like men, I like looking and it’s just a bit of fun.’ Another vehemently argued the opposite – that it is this kind of ‘fun’ that damages women worldwide, perpetuating the myth that women are a commodity that can be bought and sold as readily as a cup of coffee – that it is acceptable to judge women aesthetically and solely from a sexual standpoint. It is a tough call – I hear the first woman – why should she care? Just because she sleeps with women in her private life, like many thousands of men, she enjoys looking at women sexually and feels justified in doing so. By being gay, she didn’t take an oath to look out for the rights of other women, gay or straight.

So why is it that the majority of the group took the opposite approach. ‘Who better to care about the needs of women than us?’ said one. And maybe she’s right. Being gay by no means suggests that you must be a feminist or an activist of any form, but the nature of our sexuality means that we take an interest in women and the needs of women, both straight and lesbian.

As women, we should be outraged at the idea of women stripping for us in a club because they are one of us, regardless of our sexuality. By ignoring the issue, we are agreeing in principle to the sexualisation of young women, deeming it acceptable even to other women who, in reality, should be the friend and not the foe. On a superficial level, most gay women would have to be chemically castrated to not find the idea of half-naked dancing women attractive, but we must think with our heads not our libidos. We have a duty to do so.

Maybe men don’t have to do this, I am sure many don’t as they gain gratification from the idea that these attractive, often drug-dependent or poverty-stricken young women are actually dancing for their pleasure (and not the dirty cash that pays their undeclared wages that are not protected by employment laws). Yet I for one cannot switch off and just think of them solely as sexual objects. I see another ‘me’ (albeit less good looking and with arguably smaller tits and a less flexible hip action).

I am well aware that there is an argument, often by women in the business themselves, that stripping is a life decision that is well informed and well paid; that they are not coerced and not exploited. Individually, for those women, that is great. I am glad to hear it. Yet it cannot be ignored that in many cases this is just not true. And stripping for cash is often a pre-cursor to a much more dangerous activity – prostitution.

Should we as women shoulder more responsibility? It seems like many of us believe yes, myself included, however my reasons for believing this are kind of vague. I just care. I am just not really sure why I do.

Being a woman is a label that many of us share. It is a unique identity, yet is also so generic. Beyond my own experience of being a female, I care deeply about others’ experience of it too. It should be something positive – something that can be freely explored within the understanding and accepting framework of a more general society. However, as is the case for many lesbians, many women too face discrimination and stereotyping, in this country and further afield.

I strongly believe that I have a duty to care about other people, whatever their sexuality, religion, race or indeed gender. If being a woman means that I better understand the needs of other women, then I should take this belief and put it to good use. The women’s movement has come on leaps and bounds in this century and the last, but it is by no means a fait accompli. For this reason, I will continue to write about these issues and try to encourage others to feel the same. By staying quiet, I am tacitly acknowledging that there is nothing that needs to change in the world and that isn’t something that I am prepared to accept…

“I thought about stripping on the light pole down the block and on street over from my childhood home.” — Randomness

So, a lot of people dispute the fact that some women have to use their body and looks to make money. Some think it’s disgusting and trashy and all of these single mom strippers need to be put down like dogs. They think they’re scum.

Well, I must say, I applaud these women for doing what they do.

There are some women who do it for other reasons, or because they’re lazy. Or, yes, even trash bag skank whores. But I believe the majority of strippers are single moms.

And you know what, props to them for getting out there and making money to put food on the table for their kids. They dance, and are probably a majority of the time groped by some nasty ass truckers and old pervs. And, I’m sure there are some handsome guys and celebrities, but that is no excuse!

Anyways, these women get on that stage and do what they have to do to make money. They do what they need to. And only a true mother would put herself in an uncomfortable position for her kids when they had nothing but a prayer to go on. Bravo!

Now, in no means am I going against Miss Tyra Banks and saying that sex for money is okay. And if you keep getting pregnant, you probably are trashy. Get out there, shake your titties, take your clothes off, give out lap dances… whatever! Just don’t be trashy skank ho lot lizards. Can we say, “Welcome to my Idaho trailer park?”

Stripping and exotic dancing are two things that can be used in either a positive or negative way. But you do what you have must survive and to help your kids survive.

<3

–

Jeffy

xoxoxo

Actress and frequent Las Vegas partier Eva Longoria Parker gave comedian pal and Las Vegas imbiber George Lopez a thrill of a lifetime on his new late-night TV show on Monday– by slithering seductively on a stripper pole! 

The Desperate Housewives star told Lopez she’d show off the pole dancing skills that Carmen Electra had taught her if the pilot of his programme, Lopez Tonight!, got picked up. 

And when the Latino funnyman debuted on Monday, sure enough sexy Longoria Parker fulfilled her promise. 

Dressed in a sparkly black mini-dress and sporting a new blonde look, the actress shrieked when she realised Lopez had a pole set up on his stage, insisting she wasn’t dressed appropriately, joking, “You’re gonna see my hoo-ha.” 

But the game actress made a valiant attempt, revealing it was more successful than the one she had tried at home on St. Valentine’s Day. 

“Carmen Electra is a friend of mine and she has these stripper poles that she sells, so she sent me a stripper pole for Valentine’s,” said Parker. 

“I set it up myself… and I was trying to do the sexy dance for Valentine’s and I got on it to swing and I went `whack’ and I fell, so I never really got to do it.” 

Proving that her business skills are just as finely honed as her slick pole dancing abilities, the actress plans to follow her upcoming promotional TV campaign with Dutch beer giants Heineken, by launching her second Mexican eatery, Beso, in Las Vegas on New Year’s Eve 2010 and then branch out the yummy brand to airports across America, starting with L.A.’s LAX. 

Her first Beso restaurant was opened in Los Angeles in 2008.

Did you miss me (yeah!) while I was away? Did you hang my picture on my wall?

No? Suit yourselves then.

Anyway, after a week of late nights at work, concern over hospitalised family members and friends, Doctor Who conventions, seeing off emigrating friends and general STUFF, I’m now back. Tomorrow I’m going to start a whole series of posts, and also get in touch with all those involved in the PEP zine (and with the Mindless Ones). Meanwhile, have some links:

Zom is worried that he might be influencing his kid to become a superhero fan.

The storm in a teacup over Brown’s handwriting has been one of the most obscene examples of everything that is wrong with our society. I had a MASSIVE row with Charlotte Gore about this on Twitter yesterday, and thanks to myself and others (I was impressed with Debi, who managed to make the same points I made but rather less swearily) she posted this later, apologising for making fun of him (the comments there are fairly horrible, but Charlotte’s post is well worth reading). Millennium sums up my own view on the matter.

Gavin R has a very interesting review of a book on stripping (a subject on which I know very little).

Gavin B has a review of a festival of cross platform sound experimentation and art. I particularly like the little side comment about Daniel Johnston.

And Brad Hicks argues for a new New Deal.

ETA This post on the Beatles may be the best thing Christopher Bird’s ever written. It won’t *seem* like it is, til the last few paragraphs, but it is…

Jeg har et tips for de som hater lange køer og irriterende butikkdamer som stikker hodet inn i prøverommet for å se hvordan det går (gjelder spesielt Bikbok).

Gjør som Tyske Regina; Få to venner (aka meg og Priscillia) til å holde to jakker rundt deg i “vi skifter på stranden stil”, dra av deg klærne og på med det du skal prøve (i dette tilfellet en strømpebukse).

Lurt???

I did a gig in Brighton last night, which is my third there in three weeks. I’m getting to like it – I like the journey down, I like getting to look at the sea, I like the gigs, I like getting out of London, I like seeing friends who are living there (well, mostly former students but I think it’s okay to call them friends now)…basically, I like it.

The gig itself was actually right out on the outskirts of Hove; I walked for about an hour to find it, and when I did it was just a microphone-in-a-local-pub setup with no separate room and no audience to speak of; it was Guy Fawkes night, it didn’t look like anyone was going to come to a comedy night; I have to admit, I wondered when I arrived if it had been worth the trip.

But then I remembered that Jim Grant was the promoter, and I have never yet done one of his gigs that hasn’t gone ahead and been loads of fun (I’m not saying that it never happens, just that I have no bad experiences of gigs that Jim has promoted). And when Jim turned up, suddenly an audience did too, seemingly from out of nowhere. And they were lovely. I’d been talking to one of the pub regulars, a friendly and slightly pissed woman in a big red rugby top, just before the show started; and just as Jim was announcing me on to the stage, she shouted “He’s from Crouch End!” Which, as far as heckles go, was undeniably true. So I got on stage, said hello and asked her if she always heckled comedians by just shouting out their address – which got a big friendly laugh and the rest of the set (all the old banker routines) went beautifully.

I couldn’t help but notice, though, that the biggest laughs came from my stories about my own embarrassments. The bit that I open with, about getting a review that completely misdescribes my act in pretty crude sexual terms, got a huge laugh when I said how embarrassing it was that I’d found out about the review from my mum. And a bit that I’ve started doing about having a really embarrassing pornstar name (which I first did in my fourth ever gig, then dropped it for about four years) went really well too.

I wonder, sometimes, how much comedy relies on the comedian revealing their embarrassments and their shames to be publicly laughed at – to laugh and to be completely unashamed not only in front of themselves (as Nietzsche says), but in front of everyone, and in that they rise above the rest of the tribal shame-control which usually keeps us all in check. It would certainly go some way towards supporting a little thesis I have about how similar stand-up can be to stripping (in the sense that a lone individual must produce a show in which the source of their shame is willingly and stylishly revealed for public entertainment – and in doing so it transcends shame, and produces something which has the potential to be genuinely honest and artistic – a point that Barthes missed in his otherwise brilliant Mythologies. Unless of course the whole thing is necessarily just another example of repressive desublimation, but that would make stand-up an aspect of repressive tolerance and I’m not prepared to think about that just at the moment…)

Anyway, stand-up and stripping aren’t, it seems, the only ways to embarrass yourself. You can do it on facebook now, too. I’ve got facebook on my iphone, now – cool, huh? – which is usually a good way to fill the kind of distracted time you get while waiting to go onstage/get on a bus/get on a train. Not so good, though, when you regularly get mixed up between the ’search’ box and the ’status update box’, and keep putting the names of your friends as status updates – especially when you’ve been searching for the profiles of friends who are kind of embarrassing as an answer to the question ‘what’s on your mind?…’ Hmm.

Still – as my boy Friedrich says – anyone who is still ashamed before themselves does not yet belong with us…

One of the dancers with whom I am working on this new dance sent me this video. As has been mentioned in several posts before now, I have an interest in undressing and redressing (you can see my own enactment of this strip in 60×60 in my previous post). It has something to do with ways of looking and ways of knowing, the distinction between the actual body and the socially presentable body. I wonder if there is something in actual and socially presentable ways of undressing and redressing, action situated around the body rather than simply the body itself. I don’t think it is a profound revelation to realize that the way in which a thing is revealed or uncovered completely alters the perception of the thing itself.

There’s a part of me that wants to recreated the action of this video exactly within the choreography of this piece. How (and why) remain questions to be answered. But true to the form and intention of this blog, I offer it as extremely inspiring material for the work:

Josh Duhamel is being accused of having an affair while on the set of his new movie "Life as We Know It", and his wife Fergie is choosing to stand by her man.

everafterplanner.com

The National Enquirer has gone as far as seeking out the stripper, Nicole Forrester, and wanting to pay out $20,000 for the story. "Josh bragged about what happened on the set of his movie "Life as we Know It", and someone  called the Enquirer with the tip,” her attorney, Romin Alavi tells Us Weekly. "The Enquirer then came to Nicole."

The stripper, commonly known as Delilah, sought out a polygraph test to prove she wasn’t lying after she went on an Atlanta radio show, Q100’s Bert Show, to spill.  "We did hook up and had lots of sex and we had a really, really good time." And she passed the test. Nicole claims Duhamel approached her

Read More

Are you still imagining ?  Well good, because it is true.  After Morello came home from Harvard, he was looking for a way to make money.  Just like all of those young women out there, stripping is a great way for young men to make money, too.

I’m just emerging from a haze of post-party exhaustion. But Babyduck’s hen’s nite was a crazy success since I’ve never seen her act so nuts in my life! Kudos to Christine who ought to be an event planner.

We started out with lap-dancing lessons from Renee who’s a sweetheart and a really good teacher with a really good arse  too. Bridezilla’s Gold Star recommendation here!!!! If you want a rockin’ good time with your gal-pals, forget the pamper parties and jump straight to lap-dancing or exotic dancing lessons. I’ll bet your man would appreciate that a lot more than your freshly petal-pink toenails (unless you have a very sick bf with a foot fetish of course.) You can have a pedicure and massage any old time, but when else are ya gonna gather up your girls for something as saucy or give as much mileage as an exotic dance lesson? Renee’s your girl! Her number is 9188 8383…call her!  We were very happy with her services, especially Babyduck, and especially when she took out the naughty costumes! MUAHAHAHAHHA!

I think a few of us really took to the moves (are you reading this Sze Hwa?? *LOL*) and when you pair them with the Pussycat Dolls soundtrack, we really got it goin’ on!

I’m breaking this post into a few parts. This is the “clean” part. The second post on Babyduck’s Hen’s Nite is going to be password protected so that innocent and not-so-innocent individuals can still keep their jobs and pristine reputations. *LOL*

So we’ll let the pictures do the talking, shall we?

In the beginning…Babyduck sans makeup & costume, wearing the pink veil Christine got for her and the pink feather boa I got (which she hated and now I have it in my house and it’s the dog’s new best friend!)

 Renee teaching us how to do a sexy figure eight with our hips…and Babyduck attempting the figure eight without moving upper torso.

Whole bunch of doctors plus Christine who’s superwoman, and ONE lawyer (me) trying to test our own ability to get a second job as lap-dancers. I think Babyduck said WE’d have to tip the customers to watch us. Oh ye of little faith!

Christine in serious concentration mode.

Ahhh…the ol’ “crawl towards the guy sitting in the chair” move…prior to lowering yourself down onto his lap. So instead of walking there like a normal bipedal mammal, you crawl like a sexy bipedal mammal. Christine mastering the moves for Darren here!

The stripping part of the lesson. How to do it glamorously and sexily…

…Aaaaand away the shirt goes!!

Fantastic form, ladies! You’d have thought they were pros. Bravo!

Babyduck practising the lap moves on good-girl Tasha.

Lots of laughter while opening presents. 

Sitting next to her loot. Have a closer look at the light blue object right in the middle of the lot. *LOL* Courtesy of Miss Christine!

Babyduck in the absolute TAMEST of all the costumes she had on that day. The little red devil! And this is the only one I’m putting up in this post. The rest would be password protected.

A little group shot. Clockwise from the top left: Babyduck in the red devil costume, me, Christine, Sze Hwa, and Tasha!

After that we had a bit of food and got ready for a party! The theme for us girls was “Slutty black clothes with a big flower in hair”. Babyduck had to wear black too, but she’d have on the pink veil headband instead of a big flower.

Here’s one of me with Babyduck before we joined the others:

Unfortunately we didn’t have very many slutty black clothes. My black dress is the sluttiest outfit I had since it was completely backless, by the flower is really a fascinator I got from Australia on one of my trips. The nett effect is of a woman going to an Ascot race rather than a bachelorette at a Hen’s Nite party! And Babyduck looked like the bride of Frankenstein here, only beautiful and without stitch marks.

A group shot of the hens at the club (check out the fishnet!):

And another one closer, with fewer hens:

The List!

Christine hamming it up with Babyduck!

One last shot with the girl of the hour:

There aren’t any shots of me at the lap-dance lesson because I was on camera-duty most of the time. However, I did my share of the “sexy kitten crawl”, only those pictures are in Sze Hwa’s and Christine’s cameras. So you never know; you might see them in part II or III of the Hen’s Nite Chronicles!  

So stay tuned!