Cake with more cake.

10 Nov

I was supposed to get filmed for this pitch video.
I got scared.
My gut said no and I said, “I have to find another girl to be me.”
I don’t want you figuring out who I am.
I figure … any kind of worry prevents your own success from happening.
If you don’t worry – then you open yourself up to new levels of success.

Any visual representation that can add another level between the image people associate with me, and the real me?

I’m for that.

For a while I was thinking,
Ah, yeah, I’ll quit. I’ll get out of this fucking industry and go live my life as a normal human being.


Why the fuck would I quit an industry I love so much?
An industry I have learned so much from?
An industry where I have met people who I care about, who have my back?

The rest of you might think that all I meet are skeezy dudes and scumbags, but…I have news for you!

I’ve met intelligent women who have spirit and fire in their eyes.
I’ve met good-hearted men who have been my co-workers.
These men are honest, will always look out their ladies…
and if shit hit the fan at 3am and I was stranded on the side of the road with nowhere to go, they are the ones I know I could call.
Hell. I’ve even met a real life man outside who blows my fucking mind. Which wouldn’t have happened, were it not for this job.

If I had to think of another job to wear like a goddamn badge of honor,
there isn’t another job that I can think of that I’d rather wear proudly, more than brotheling.

I will tell you why.

I feel alienated by normal every day existence.
The surreal is starting to feel more like home.
I’m starting to enjoy life on other planets more.

If we were to tie in brothels with some fucking….string theory, and quantum mechanics…I tell you: To a fantastic whore, the rules of the time-space continuum do not apply. I feel like I need to go live my life on other planets, and get back to the other bullshit later.

You might be thinking “oh this bitch is crazy, she’s talking about physics and relating it to sex.”

But…no no no.
People don’t want their fantasy with a side of reality.
They want their fantasy with more fantasy.
They want fantasy as the appetizer, the soup, the salad, the main course, the dessert.
Cake with more goddamn cake!

Reality just isn’t working out right now.
She and I are on bad terms.

I’m incredibly indulgent in the world of fantasy.
The world seems to stand still when I lack follow through with my fantasies.
When I indulge in my fantasies…that’s when all the “I can’t believe that just happened!” stuff happens.

What kind of hooker would I be if I lived a life of glitter and sparkles and crazy hi heeled shoes…only to fall short when I take off the hooker heels and head home for the week?

I’m beginning to think my life will get better if the fantasies continue, outside of the whorehouse too.

Cake with more cake.


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