Stripper Fail

The teething continues. The screaming. The crying. The horror.

So in my state of exhaustion, I give you something funny to watch.

It is, indeed, a stripper fail.

Go to my happy place…

Oh, for the days when the most crucial part of my day was getting my hair right.

Cole is teething (or being taken over by alien beings who just like to scream and cry nonstop).

He has his two front bottom teeth, one upper front one (yes, I know there are more technical names for these, but they escape me at the moment), and—hello! The second front tooth has poked his little toothie self through.

Miss Genny is still in a phase. You know, the kind where she tells me to shut up.

My nerves? Fried. My hair? Horrible.

If I don’t get some peace, quiet, and sleep soon, this Saturday I will look like I’m going to my fiftieth high school reunion instead of my twentieth.

Pole Dance Doll Hits the Big Time on Perez Hilton

The pole dance doll finally made her way onto Perez Hilton’s website.

If she wasn’t real yet, I’m sure someone will manufacture her now.

The Big Why

What a way to top off a long day.

I’m at the Big Y grocery shopping when Cole dumps over Genny’s milk jug onto himself, our groceries and the floor. While I’m trying to clean up all the mess, Cole dumps over my ice-tea.

The fun wasn’t over yet either.

As I’m bent over mopping up milky ice-tea, I notice a man with a handlebar mustache saying, “Excuse me, ma’am.”

“Yes?” I ask, thinking he’s come to my assistance.

“You’re falling out of your…bra there.” He averted his eyes.

“Argh, I’m having a rough day.”

He politely excused himself as I tucked my errant nipple back in. I really shouldn’t wear this tank top in public anymore.

The Other McCain: CULTURAL APOCALYPSE WATCH:The Pole-Dancer Doll for Girls

The Other McCain: CULTURAL APOCALYPSE WATCH:The Pole-Dancer Doll for Girls

I don't understand the fury over this doll.

She has on her clothes and she's dancing around a pole with a disco ball.

What child is going to think anything else than, "Oh, cool. A cute doll that swirls around a pole!"

Last time I checked, roller rinks had disco balls, should we be offended about that?

And what about subway trains? Shall we declare war on people holding on to poles because of the wrong impression it might give to children?

Dancer Doll

I do understand the concern that parents have over this doll, knowing what they know about adult “pole dancers.”

I don’t know though. If I were a child and I saw this doll, I would just think that it’s a cute doll who dances around a pole.

Aren’t we just imposing our adult knowledge on our children when we have a problem with a doll like this? They don’t know about our adult references.

This appears to simply be a doll that dances around a pole. So what? Unless she strips off her clothing or dances provocatively, I don’t see what the big deal is.

Striptease or Burlesque?

The big tease: Burlesque grows in popularity
Shows sparks debate: performance art or downright smut?

Is there a difference between striptease and burlesque besides personal opinion? I don’t think so. One woman’s burlesque performance is another woman’s striptease.

It’s the old “I know it when I see it,” defense, only for striptease instead of porn.

The last club I performed at was called by two different names: Fallen Angels and Blue Angels. It was considered a burlesque club, which meant you could do performance art while you stripped, as long as you ended up naked.

I always wanted to push the envelope and do some funny stuff, but my need for cash kept me pretty much just straight-stripping. Although, by most peoples’ standards, a lot of what I did over the years was more burlesque than just peeling and posing.

I did feel better about myself when I worked at Blue Angel. I was not so afraid to tell others where I worked because now I could say I was a “burlesque performer” instead of an exotic dancer.

My favorite routine to do there was my own version of Strawberry Shortcake. I had a pair of yellow cut-off shorts and a halter top with strawberries all over and I put my hair in pigtails. I would bring strawberries on stage with me and eat them suggestively.

I found most men really didn’t care what you did though; they were waiting for the naked part.