Susannah Breslin, a.k.a. the Reverse Cowgirl, has a great, short article up on The Frisky called “The Happy Hooker?”. The article is a response to a feature in Radar, “Secrets of A Hipster Hooker,” written by a woman who apparently aspires to be a hooker but can’t go through with it at the very last minute. Breslin sums up the phenomenon of sex work becoming “hip” up so nicely, so succinctly - it’s really quite delicious:

It’s become increasingly hip to trumpet the “empowering” virtues of sex work, but the fact of the matter is that the realities of sex work are far too hardcore for most aspiring “hipster hookers” to handle.

Yep, the reality is that sometimes sex work sucks. And as someone who regularly sees women hanging out at strip clubs because it’s suddenly become cool, it’s refreshing to see someone issue an apparently needed reminder that sex work is not like leg warmers: sure, it might seem fun and easy to try on, but after the fad has passed you’re left with a lot more than a stupid purchase and some embarrassing photos.

The Bush Administration moved forward with proposed regulations that would provide what they’re calling “freedom of conscience” for doctors who don’t want to perform abortions due to religious or moral objections.

Sp, if you were wondering how all those nasty, anti-choice folks that Bush appointed to random offices over the past eight years would actually lead to bad things happening, now you know. Health and Human Services Secretary Michael Leavitt, a Bush appointee who will ultimately decide whether this regulation goes through or not, has the following to say:

“Freedom of conscience is not to be surrendered upon issuance of a medical degree,” said Leavitt. “This nation was built on a foundation of free speech. The first principle of free speech is protected conscience.”

And by freedom of conscience, of course, he means the right, as a doctor, to deny your patients legal medical care cause you don’t wanna do it.

This is the man who is responsible for our nation’s health, and he is stating in no uncertain terms that women’s health comes second to doctor’s ideology. Nice.

I first noticed the phenomenon of Bare Feet when I glanced over at H. during a lap dance. I thought she looked shorter, and sure enough, down at the bottom of her legs were not her usual seven-inch Lucite platforms, but just…her feet.

It was jarring. Tall and slim with long, wavy black hair, H. was a straight vixen on the stage. But once she got her prey into the VIP room, off came the stilettos, and down she came from her pedestal.

I wondered briefly if I could do it. It sure would be a lot more comfortable. But I thought about it, and I realized - as a stripper, I am incomplete without my shoes.

My shoes are like my armor. Without them I’m my normal height (short), with my normal proportions (normal…nothing to write home about), just dolled up in a glorified bathing suit. But with them on, I’m a glamazon, a fantasy both to my customers and to myself.

I admire those girls who take the damn things off, cause let’s be real - they hurt by the end of the night. However, just like my life story, I want the bastards to know as little about me as possible, including what I look like when I’m talking to people I know and like.

This chubby broad is cruising the Chi this week, seeing the fam, catching up with friends, what have you. I make it here a few times a year, and every time things seem to have changed. On this trip I’ve been on the look-out for chubby girls, their fashion, their attitudes, etc., to see if there are really SO MANY MORE FAT POEPLE in the Midwest. 

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The Frisky has a great post up about calling scene on (a.k.a., ending) the debate about what makes a woman a slut. The writer calls for an end to the use of the word because it’s so subjective, and I would add to that that it is fucking offensive, derogatory, hypocritical and misogynistic. Just sayin’. Anyway, here is a choice excerpt:

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Via Pushback: The Democratic party released it’s new platform on choice today. Dropping the “safe, legal and rare” bit, they focused instead on backing measures that will actually do something to prevent unintended pregnancy in the first place, like comprehensive sex education, affordable and accessible health care, and even parenting courses.

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I’ve recently taken to making up different stories about my life for every customer who I talk to.

“Where are you from?” is a question that I get asked by almost everyone, which is incredibly boring, so to keep it interesting I’m trying to get to the point that I’ve “grown up” in all fifty states.

So far, I’ve spent my childhood in North Dakota, which became even more fun when a customer forgot my name and so told a fellow dancer, upon trying to find me again, that he had been talking to “the girl from North Dakota.” I’ve also grown up in New Hampshire, Montana, Wyoming, Kansas (that one always gets some shocked looks), Oklahoma, and Illinois.

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That’s what I think of Elizabeth Edwards, former Presidential (and Vice Presidential?) hopeful John Edwards’ wife.

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My bro saw Obama today in the Chi… just thought I’d share the tiniest picture of him ever to be posted on the internet. See him back there by the door, he’s waving? He’s very small? Gotta’ love the crowd, the secret service, the black town-cars… ah, it bodes well for our future… 

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I work in a pretty traditional office environment- lots of women, lots of talking about shopping, clothes, beauty treatments, shoes, vaginas, yeast, etc. I’m all for it, it’s a damn good time, and let’s be honest, it breaks up the day.

But one thing that’s really striking about working with women is this: they hate themselves. Yes, all of them. Or at least the vast majority. It’s insane! You’re ho-humming along in a perfectly lovely conversation about something non-controversial (like Kenneth Cole shoes, which I happen to adore), and inevitably, someone brings it down to the “I hate my body level”.

“I couldn’t fit into anything this morning, I seriously need to lose some weight”…. (or buy some new clothes?).

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