Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

zinsanity sjane 300x200 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

photo by MG Imagery

Holy cow, Burning Man is right around the corner! It never fails — every year it sneaks up on me, and I end up scrambling to get my costumes and stuff ready last-minute. But this year is even worse than usual!

Ironically, I figured I’d have plenty of time this year, since my planned trip to Sturgis got cancelled thanks to my bitch-ass ex-girlfriend bailing on me (I still haven’t heard a word from her — it’s like she flipped a switch and totally froze me out of her life). But before I had the chance to sit around and cry about Sturgis and/or start preparing for Burning Man….wouldn’t you know it, my friend Dr. Kildare made me an offer I couldn’t refuse: come camping with him in Colorado for a week! He even offered to pay my airfare; how could I turn that down?

11855674 1130501426977514 960352030502502245 n 165x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Is this backpack big enough to hold all the weed I plan to buy???

Besides, I’d never been to Colorado and have always wanted to check it out — especially now that marijuana is legal there simple smile Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach So I put my Burning Man prep aside, threw all my camping gear in my roommate’s ginormous old Army duffel, and headed for the airport. I’d have plenty of time to get ready for the Burn after I got home, I told myself.

Dr. Kildare met me at the Denver airport, and we headed back down south to this weird high-desert valley he’s enamored of down near the New Mexico border. But first things first — along the way, we had to stop at a dispensary to buy some legal weed!!! We ended up going to The Spot 420 in Pueblo, which turned out to be a fantastic place; management was super friendly, and hooked us up with all kinds of free swag including koozies, shirts, hats and sunglasses. Dr. Kildare went buck wild and bought $170 worth of cookies, hash oil and Purple Passion grape-flavored THC concentrate…but all I really needed was less than one gram of Indica, so I could take a few hits off my pipe at bedtime every night, to help me sleep. I’m a lightweight!

Screen Shot 2015 08 24 at 11.48.50 AM 300x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

TheSpot420 in Pueblo is legit as fuck and will take care of all your medical and recreational needs!

But since we had all that other stuff aaaaaanyway….I went ahead and indulged, enjoying a fabulous sun-and-marijuana-soaked week of hiking, camping, hot springing and Rocky-Mountain-Oyster-eating. Dr. Kildare is like me, always on the go — so we would never really indulge until 6pm or so, after we’d done everything we wanted to do all day. No wake & bake for us; I like to save my high as a reward for a hard day’s fun, and he’s the same way.

Anyway, the first spot we camped was down at the Great Sand Dunes National Monument near Alamosa. Holy cow was that place beautiful!! It’s basically this

20150805 201028 300x169 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

the dunes at sunset

GINORMOUS dune field at the foot of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains — I think the highest dune is around 800 feet tall, and people come down there from all over the world to go “sandboarding” (snowboarding on sand, LOL). These dunes are also closed to OHV traffic, so there are no bothersome rednecks razzing around belching gas and noise pollution and throwing beer bottles on the ground. It’s a very peaceful place, and beautiful in an otherworldly way — this huge, vast dune field surrounded by forests and meadows, with a creek that runs right through the sand!!

20150806 101329 300x169 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

the creek

I’ve never seen anything like it. The first night, Dr. K and I got baked and walked down to the creek from the campground, and it was pitch dark. Dr. K is anti-headlamp, so we walked by the light of the stars, along this little path through the meadow to the creek, which runs along the base of the dunefield. Since it was too dark to see much, all my other senses were heightened, and the feeling of the cool water running through the wet sand was really out of this world! The trickling of the creek was the only sound, and all you could really make out was the occasional glint of starlight on the water — and the occasional flash of a headlamp waaaaaaay out on the dunes, where the truly hardcore had gotten backcountry permits to camp out.

20150806 105832 300x169 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

the vastness of this dunefield cannot be overstated!

Being baked certainly added to the experience, and Dr. K got all fired up with the idea that we, too should camp out on the dunes the following night. Now, I can think of nothing more otherworldly and amazing than camping out at the top of an 800-foot sand dune, surrounded by miles of sand hills and sand valleys — how freaking awesome and Bedouin would that be, to have a little campfire and a glass of wine under all those stars, surrounded by all that sand?! But the idea of schlepping my gear, plus water, wood and wine, alllllll the way up an 800-foot dune sounded like the opposite of awesome!

20150806 162729 300x169 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Blanca, CO

The next morning we hiked to the top of the dunes in the daylight, and it was such an ass-kicking workout that Dr. K abandoned the idea of camping up there anyway, and we just enjoyed a day of hiking, instead. In the afternoon we drove to the nearest liquor store to get some champagne — I figured that Purple Passion grape-flavored THC concentrate would taste amazing mixed with some good old-fashioned champers. But it’s not like there’s a BevMo or a WalMart or anything way the fuck out there in the ultra-desolate San Luis Valley! Finding a bottle of champagne seemed like a pretty tall order.

11863378 1132372143457109 4548513329699680948 n 169x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Soviet champagne

But astonishingly, in the tiny, dusty little town of Blanca we found this Ukrainian woman running a sort of convenience store/liquor shop out of an old adobe building in the middle of nowhere. It was like something out of a Wim Wenders movie — how did she wind up there? But she did happen to have a bottle of Russian champagne in the walk-in cooler –Sovetskoye Shampanskoye, this old-time Soviet-era sparkling wine from Belarus. “We drink on New Years when I was little girl,” she waxed nostalgic, vouching for its indisputable high quality. SOLD! I never thought I’d try Russian champagne for the first time in the Colorado desert….but guess what? It was pretty damn good!

After a few days at the dunes, we headed up north to this amazing nudist hot springs resort called Valley View, nestled in the wooded foothills overlooking the San Luis Valley.

20150808 105435 300x169 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

One of the hot pools at Valley View

Valley View is your typical nudist hot spring resort — New Agey, full of hippies, with communal kitchens and  a music room and stuff like that…but unlike other resorts I’ve been to (Harbin) it’s much less sanctimonious and pretentious. They let you use your phone (there is decent WiFi and cell service), plus it has a more laid-back, slightly busted-up vibe which I totally dug. There are a few cabins and dorm room beds you can rent, plus plenty of RV and tent camping in the forest — so Dr. K and I set up camp, mixed up some Shampanskoye and Purple Passion, and hit the soaking pools.

11872255 1132709340090056 665805041120768476 o 300x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Wandering the grounds at Valley View

There are several different soaking pools at Valley View, all fairly rustic, with sandy or gravel bottoms, surrounded by the most beautiful wildflowers and trees. Most of the pools up on the hillside are kinda lukewarm or tepid, but there are two nice hot ones in a grove of apple trees, plus there’s even a full-size swimming pool and a sauna with a cold-plunge pool inside the sauna! The bathrooms and showers are plentiful and pretty clean, and overall I have to give this facility an A+. GREAT place!

11233996 1132221066805550 5724203151424419226 n 300x169 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

The music room at Valley View

Once the Purple Passion kicked in, we wandered around in the dark (remember, Dr. K is headlamp-averse) exploring the grounds. First, we came upon an awesome, enormous open-air wooden pavilion structure strung with colored lights, a communal kitchen on one side and a bonfire in the center, with s’mores accoutrements laid out for all to enjoy. HELLO!!! I spent a few hours beasting on s’mores and drawing all over the walls with chalk, which was provided for just

20150808 114002 300x169 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Why it’s called Valley View

that purpose, before following the sound of piano music wafting through the dark forest to another building, where a music room had been set up with drums, xylophones, guitars and all manner of other wacky instruments including a hammered dulcimer! Oh my gawd, I’m telling you this was the best place to be high this side of Burning Man. I will definitely be back to Valley View!!!

20150808 152545 e1440470633724 169x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

UFO vortex

Aside from just hanging out soaking and relaxing, Dr. K and I also took a trip down into the valley to explore some of the little towns in the area. That really is a unique corner of the country — I mean, when I think of Colorado I think of the Rockies and whatnot, but the San Luis Valley is a really bizarre, windswept, funky little oasis full of some of the best weirdos you’ll ever meet! We checked out an old movie theater in Saguache, a New Age ice cream parlor in Crestone, and this UFO viewing center in the middle of the valley near Moffat, where for $2 you can climb up on a two-story platform and look for mysterious lights, which are said to appear often in that area (the lady working there told us alllllllll about it). Overall, a great and ultra-funky place!

After a few more days camping in the area, it was time to head back north to Denver so I could fly home to Vegas — I had a trade show gig booked the day I got back, so I couldn’t dilly-dally around. We had one last meal of Rocky Mountain Oysters (aka deep-fried bull testicles, which I found to be okay, but probably wouldn’t eat again), and then Dr. K got us a room for the night so I could get cleaned up and trade-show ready — I literally was going straight to work from the airport when I landed in Vegas the next day.

11872206 1133418966685760 6074607431667506210 o 300x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Rocky Mountain pits

This meant I finally had to shave my armpits, which had gotten SUPER hairy over the 7 weeks I let them grow out this summer. The last time I had shaved was back in June, before that romance novel cover audition — since then, I hadn’t had any gigs requiring me to shave, so I just let the hair grow as a sort of science experiment as I went about my summer fun. WOW!!! I had no idea my armpit hair could get that thick — it was nuts. Thankfully, Dr. K was cool enough to film this video of me shaving them…if you’re interested in seeing for yourself:

Anyway, I flew back to Vegas the next day, grabbed my ginormous duffel from baggage claim, ran to my car and drove straight to the convention center for my trade show gig. But ALAS, in the meantime the guy who hired me had had second thoughts…doubting my ability to get there in time from the airport, he had already hired another girl to replace me. D’OH!!!! I’m telling you, people — I am a woman of my word!! If I say I’m going to be somewhere at a certain time — BY GOLLY, I’LL BE THERE!!! I’m no amateur; I’m Wonderhussy, goddammit! The guy was cool though, and paid me a consolation fee…but it still kinda sucked.

11856419 1134478199913170 8324407185682181410 o 300x183 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

I’m the first result when you Google “Las Vegas Nude Model”

I didn’t let it bother me for long, though — as mentioned, I had a TON of prep work to do for Burning Man, and this would only give me more time to get ready. So, did I buckle down and git ‘er done? What do YOU think? Listen, when you’re the #1 Google result for “Las Vegas Nude Model” (!!!), last-minute gigs tend to pop up like mushrooms in the night…and it’s hard to turn down money, especially with all the cancellations I had this summer.

First I did a shoot in a beautiful suite at the Aria, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the most amazing monsoonal desert thunderstorm. (That room was a photographer’s paradise — if you can afford one of the Sky Suites, they make for great photo shoots.) Then I had a couple shoots with local photographers…and then, I got a call to make a surprise appearance in my showgirl costume, at some ancient goombah’s 80th birthday party over at this awesome old-school Italian restaurant on the east side of town.

11896230 1138126066215050 8352397641758506404 o 300x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

The old school

Now, I’ve never been a fan of the whole “Everything was better when the mob ran Vegas” mentality (which is the grousy refrain of many old-timers in town, who insist that times were better when a bunch of two-bit thugs ran the show)…but there is definitely something to be said for that old-Vegas lifestyle — you know, martinis and Sinatra and showgirls and all that. Thugs or no, there was a fabulously bizarre sense of elegance back in those days that is fading from memory as all these old fuckers die off; this birthday party was a prime example.

It was in honor of some politically-connected attorney, and all his old-time Vegas cronies were there to celebrate, swilling martinis and feasting on osso bucco and whatnot, just like the good old days. The band played “Happy Birthday” as I carried in a cake, dragged the birthday boy to his feet and shook my feathers like a bedazzled rooster in heat as they segued into “Copacabana.” Then ancient funnyman Marty Allen grabbed the cake and for a minute looked like he would topple over face-first into it, but everyone gathered round and we all posed for a photo, instead. GOOD TIMES!

11880676 1138015452892778 7048478166350146739 n 169x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Viva Las Vegas!

Being in a hurry as always, I kissed everyone goodbye, grabbed my cash and was out the door and on my way home in my busted-up pickup truck before you could say Bugsy Siegel. But on the way home, with Andy Williams crooning “Moon River” on the radio, I grew somewhat melancholy. Like I said, that whole way of life is on the way out, and the new Vegas is all about douchey mega-nightclubs and plastic-titted Raver Barbies, neither of which hold any interest for me whatsoever. What are these jackass millennials going to do for their 80th birthdays — hire some fat-assed Nicki Minaj impersonator to come twerk to a Calvin Harris cover DJ?? SHUDDER! When I got home, I poured myself a drink and raised a toast to the old-timers: Las Vegas est mort! Viva Las Vegas!

Anyway, I wasn’t melancholy for very long — I had just settled in to do some serious Burning Man prep…when my photographer friend from the Bay Area invited me out to Death Valley for another photo shoot. Death Valley in August? How could I say no to that?!! 

11887744 1136307846396872 799268685946420162 o 300x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Shoshone!

Actually, it sounds worse than it was. We got a room at the motel in Shoshone — this funky little outpost on the eastern edge of Death Valley, near Tecopa — and there was air conditioning and a pool and everything, so the days were pretty comfortable. This particular photographer likes to drink really good wine paired with exceptionally fabulous cheese, so things were pretty cushy up until we actually began shooting — and even then it wasn’t bad, because our shoots are always at night.

 

 

3507 2 200x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Fabulous photo by C.J.

Why, you ask? Well, I can finally tell you — it’s because he shoots these amazing long exposures of the Milky Way and stuff, so we can’t even start shooting until it’s late enough at night for the heavens to be in alignment. I mean, look at this fantastic photo!!! I just love the insignificance of my naked ass against all that infinite wonder; it’s one of my favorite photos taken of me, ever! Also during our shoots, we hang out enjoying the warm desert night air, listening to far-out electronic music and sipping cocktails in the darkness. Kind of like Burning Man, now that I think about it! Why do I even bother to go to Burning Man, when most of my life is spent doing the same shit, anyway?! (No need to answer that!)

 

19 291x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

photo by C.J.

Aaanyway, this photographer also wanted to try some stuff along the lines of those old Renaissance paintings on the theme of “vanitas;” as in, the meaninglessness of earthly life and the transient nature of all earthly goods and pursuits. This is a theme I’ve thought about a LOT my entire life, so the concept was right up my alley. I loaded up any relevant props I could find around the house, including my magnificently gaudy throne, and trucked them all out to the middle of the desert so we could set this shit up one night. FAR OUT! It was definitely different from most of the shoots I do.

throne 300x200 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

photo by C.J.

And, since I had hauled my throne all the friggin’ way out there anyway…I had an idea for another photo, which the photographer kindly indulged at sunset one evening. This is one of my all-time favorite photos ever; you might have noticed I even changed the header of this blog! I had the idea that it would look really surreal/bizarre to be wearing a crown and sitting on a throne in the middle of nowhere, sort of like the old Maxell tape ads…but after seeing the results, I realize it looks more like an homage to the Anton Corbijn video for Depeche Mode’s “Enjoy the Silence.” Either way….I dig it!

Anyway, after getting back from Death Valley I still had one more weekend to hunker down and prepare for Burning Man. I was trying to make a second electric vagina codpiece — one that lights up for nighttime use — and in addition to that, I had to shop for food and booze, plus pack up all my costumes and camp gear. In sum, I had a shit ton to do…but guess what? I ended up going out of town AGAIN! But this time I had an exceptionally good reason.

ftn3 211x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

photo by Michael Maze

Now as you probably know, I’m a huge supporter of equal topless rights; if a man is allowed to sunbathe topless on a beach, then a woman should have the same privilege, no? Sadly, however, our society is so fucked up that you can post all manner of violent nonsense on your Facebook page…but if you show one female nipple, your account gets suspended. How does that make sense?! It all stems from some ancient superstitious nonsense about the first woman on Earth having eaten a magic apple proffered by a talking snake; I don’t get it either, but believe it or not it still informs our culture thousands of years later, even today when it is generally recognized in the U.S. that men and women are equals. Sheesh!!

 

FREETHENIPPLE3 300x281 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

I KNOW it’s an AR-15…

Well, every year on the Sunday closest to Women’s Equality Day (August 26th; the day women in the U.S. were granted the right to vote), this group called GoTopless.org holds protest rallies in cities across the world. I’ve never been able to attend one of them, however, because I’m usually at Burning Man in late August, so I miss all the fun. Well, this year, because Labor Day falls so late in September, Burning Man doesn’t start until August 30th….which means I was finally able to march in a topless rights parade! It’s something I’ve wanted to do for years, so of course I put my Burning Man prep plans on hold for a few more days.

ftn2 225x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

photo by Randy Fosth/Shutterbug Studio

Now here in Vegas, there is virtually no topless rights movement; this town makes a big chunk of its revenue off women’s tits, so showing them for free does not go down well. You gotta PAY to see nipples in Vegas; tits are a commodity here! Luckily, however, there’s a huge topless rights movement down the road in L.A., and they have a big parade on Venice Beach every year…so I signed up to join the fun and headed out there Friday afternoon. The actual rally wasn’t until Sunday, but I figured I’d make a weekend of it; Friday there was a pre-party at some kooky warehouse in Culver City, and then Saturday I planned to head down to San Diego and finally check out Black’s Beach, a well-known nudist spot I’ve been dying to visit.

 

11052473 1084413114919679 1688221706140042644 n 300x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

I wore something similar to this onstage for my act

I even signed up to perform my Electric Vagina act at the Friday night party, so I got in for free. The only problem was….I didn’t really have an act, per se; I just make vagina coladas in a blender plugged into my crotch. And with everything else going on, it’s not like I had time to work up an act…but guess what? I did anyway! I choreographed a brief performance to Iggy Pop’s iconic “Pussy Power,” involving my baby stroller, blender and some new props I thought up, threw it all in my truck, and hit the road, arriving at the warehouse in Culver City around 6pm. Whew!

DSC 0015 300x199 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

photo by Fame in a Can

Let me tell you, that party was far fucking out!!! The warehouse was this artsy, funky party space used for local Burning Man events, and they had a stage set up and a bar and everything. The party was being hosted by the GoTopless.org group, who also happen to be Raëlians — members of a French sex cult who believe mankind is descended from a master race of aliens (they were in the news back in 2002 when they claimed to have cloned the first human; you might have heard of them then). So the crowd at this party was about 40% Burning Man artist-types, 40% Raëlians, and 20% single men who were just there to perv on the topless chicks. In other words…..best party everrrrr!

01 Silver Bodysuit 027 web 199x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

My costume at the Go Topless party
Photo by Randy Fosth/Shutterbug Studio

After a viewing of the topless rights movie “Free the Nipple” (which was actually super lame; a bunch of cute young white girls, plus one token black chick and one token fat chick, running around scowling earnestly with their titties bouncing…like a topless version of SpiceWorld), the party got started. Since I was getting up early to go to San Diego in the morning, I asked to be one of the first performers, and it went over OK. Unfortunately the DJ was unable to play my song, so I had to perform to some random electronic music, and there was no lighting or anything…but still, for my performance art debut I’d say it went over well. I met a lot of interesting people from the L.A. Burning Man art scene, and ran into a few people I already knew…so I was glad I went.

 

11951823 1140629035964753 6265790819557193395 n 300x169 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Black’s Beach

Anyway, as mentioned I didn’t stay at the party too late because I was meeting a friend at Black’s Beach in the morning –but thanks to traffic and my sleep deficiency, it was more like afternoon by the time I got down there. But OMG, what a fantastic place!! There were hundreds of naked people hanging out in the sun, playing volleyball and frisbee and just relaxing and enjoying being naked — no swingers or perviness, just naturism. Everyone was SUPER friendly, and I really enjoyed the crowd — I will definitely be back there again. The only downside to Black’s is, there’s nowhere free/cheap to camp out nearby (it’s in La Jolla)…but thankfully I was with my friend that I met up with at Deep Creek earlier this summer, and he let me stay at his place up in Newport Beach. So after spending all day in the sun, we went back to his place and crashed out, so that I could get up in the morning and go to the rally in Venice.

Incidentally, the whole time I was in So Cal people kept asking me if I come out there often — and the answer is no! Despite the miserable traffic, heavy smog, parking nightmares and proliferation of douchebags, I do like it there a lot — there’s so much to do! But I don’t think I’d ever move there. Say what you will about Vegas, it’s much easier to be free here. I’m not tied to a $3,000-a-month rental, and I can be out in the middle of the desert in no time. Wide open spaces = F R E E D O M ! ! ! The desert is much more my scene.

11882323 879343772151128 1870088724862114993 o 300x199 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

photo by RingoShotYou

Anyway, the next morning my friend made me an awesome big-ass breakfast, and I was on my way to Venice. It was pretty hot that day, so I didn’t wear much — some Wonder Woman boots, star-spangled panties and my Electric Vagina codpiece…with a power drill plugged in, with a 9″ concrete drill bit with an American flag waving from the end. On my nipples, I had flesh-colored pasties on which I’d written “FREE ME” in pink crayon…and on my head, my trusty WONDER HUSSY trucker cap and a ponytail. Low profile, ya know? simple smile Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

11894532 879338835484955 4508851289275668104 o 300x199 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Venice mayhem

The parade started at the north end of Venice Beach, and when I got there, it was a real shit show — in addition to the usual crew of freaks and weirdos, there were dozens of topless women and hundreds of ogling men milling about, plus a few cool guys wearing pasties and bikini tops in solidarity. A religious group had wheeled out a giant wooden Bible and an angry hatemonger was ranting and raving over a megaphone about how we were all going to hell, but this awesome chick with a Rod Stewart mullet and a boombox was blasting “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” to drown him out as we all cackled maniacally and danced, waving our asses and titties in his face. It was a blast!!!!!

11958154 10153544682682920 329976297756447874 o 225x300 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

Religious kooks

Once the parade started, we marched down the boardwalk, now numbering in the hundreds, with more and more people joining our ranks along the way. A giant-bare-titted woman on stilts led the way, followed by three sexy Asian Raëlian chicks in UFO mini dresses carrying giant titty umbrellas, and this buff young kid on shrooms who’d been coerced into putting on a sailor costume and pushing this topless mermaid in a wheelbarrow. Meanwhile, the brains of the operation — these three feminist activist types with fake nipples stuck all over their bodies — shouted rallying cries into a megaphone to get the crowd fired up. Like I said….what a shit show!

I marched along with my power drill whirring frantically, spinning the American flag in the face of oppression. When asked, I explained that it was a symbol of empowering the feminine — women don’t realize how much power we hold; if we would only learn to harness the power of the puss, we could rule the world! I tell you I must have posed for 300 photos and done 20 or 30 interviews; it was fantastic! I never wanted it to end!!

brian feinzimer la weekly 300x200 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

photo by Brian Feinzimer for LA Weekly

Alas, however, I knew I was facing a 5-hour drive home…plus I still had to get ready for Burning Man! I followed the parade all the way to the end, and hung out and danced for a while, having SO MUCH FUN that I literally had to tear myself away — I would have loved nothing more than to join the afterparty at a local bar, and get shitfaced while dancing late into the evening. But…duty calls.

11891412 879343398817832 1933251997424872854 o 300x199 Getting Baked in Colorado and Protesting Topless in Venice Beach

shrooming kid pushing a mermaid

So I walked allllll the way back to my truck, and even then I couldn’t break away — a bunch of cholo bikers from the Vagos bike club were hanging out nearby and wanted me to pose for photos with their bikes, haha. Just like the bad old days with that fat dumbass Blondie! I obliged them, then finally stripped out of my swamp-assy Wonder Woman panties, changed into something more comfortable, and got the fuck out there — hauling ass for the desert.

And that, my friends, is the story of how I now find myself in the unenviable position of having less than 24 hours before I’m supposed to leave for Burning Man….and WAY too much prep work still to be accomplished!! Shit, I’ve already spent far too long writing about all this; time to shut the fuck up and finally get to work.

And this time I mean it!!!

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 6 Comments

Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

305350 308322325862099 1254803866 n 300x200 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Shooting a fetish video

Because of all the weird fetish modeling I’ve done, people are always asking me “what’s your fetish?”

Well, I hate to disappoint you all, but my fetish is not for being spanked or dressing up like a schoolgirl or any of the other stuff I get paid to pretend to like — when it comes to sex, I’m fairly vanilla, and prefer a traditional male partner with a giant wallet… and chronic erectile dysfunction simple smile Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

But I do have a fetish — and it’s for summer. If I could make my own perfume, it would totally be something like this cheesy quote from Peter Pan:

“The smell of someone who has ridden the back of the wind…the smell of a hundred fun summers, with sleeping in trees and adventures with Indians and Pirates…The world was ours.”

I love that smell!!!

20150713 1415081 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Summer!

Summer isn’t just my favorite season — it’s my obsession! From the day Daylight Savings ends until the day it’s finally warm enough to wear flip-flops again, I am a disconsolate mess; not only do I despise wearing socks and shoes and sweaters, and those hideously short days…it’s the withering away of all that’s green and lush and full of life that really sends my soul into a death spiral. I’m a melancholy person by nature, and fall/winter are too gloomy for my fragile psyche. That’s part of the reason I moved here to the desert — the weather stays warm longer, and because of the sparse vegetation, you don’t notice the annual cycle of death as much.

20150716 162333 e1438754791675 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

this summer

Anyway, I always do my best to squeeze every last drop of nectar from summer, and this year was no exception. I busted my ass hustling all throughout May and June, so that I had enough cash stockpiled to allow me some time off — a reader of this blog had invited me to come check out some hot springs up in Idaho, so I planned a road trip with my sister around that. This reader also happens to be a photographer, and offered to hire me for a shoot while up there, so I could make some gas money along the way. Sweet!!! I packed my bags, left my dog and house in the care of my roommate, and set sail from the desert for the forests of the northwest.

But the problem with a fetish is…real life can never live up to your fantasy. Real life is flaky photographers and spiritual malaise and toothaches and broken beer bottles hidden in sand dunes and hot coals left burning on the edge of hot spring pools by careless hippies — real boner-killer shit! But it’s also all just First World Problems-type shit….so one has to soldier on, if one is hell-bent on milking every bit of enjoyment from the fleeting beauty of summer, as I am.

20150704 173255 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

kayaking

My summer 2015 started in the redwood forests of Northern California, where I spent the 4th of July kayaking on a beautiful, misty lagoon near Bodega Bay with most of my immediate family (one of my sisters was in Germany). My other sister (the one I travel with) had just gotten back from her own cross-country road trip the day before, so that evening she treated us to a 4+ hour slideshow of her adventures — which were amazing!! She basically drove to Florida and back, sleeping in her 4-Runner at rest areas and Wal Marts along the way, with only a Leatherman tool and two brass balls for protection. Some of the shit she saw and the people she met were incredible — I told her she should start her own blog simple smile Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Anyway, because we set off on the road again just a couple days later, she was pretty wore out, and I kinda felt bad dragging her around Oregon and Idaho — at times she seemed pretty road-tripped out. To make matters worse, we had to take her car, since she sleeps in it. But she said she wanted to go, and we ended up having a pretty good time despite her exhaustion — the alternative for her would have been to sit around thinking about how she really has to go back to work this fall; as you may recall, she’s been on a spirit quest since quitting her loathsome corporate job in Feb. 2014, and has set a deadline for herself to get shit figured out.

20150708 203601 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

camping on the beach at Sinkyone

So we headed up north, and our first stop was the incredibly beautiful, remote Sinkyone Wilderness, part of northern California’s Lost Coast. They call it the “lost” coast because no highways were ever built into its rugged reaches, and all the little towns and communities out there are fog-bound and super isolated. It’s AMAZING, and the Sinkyone Wilderness is this giant state park right in the middle of it.

20150709 120108 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Into the wild….

We camped at Usal Beach campground in the southern part of the preserve, and I’m here to tell you — that is one of the remotest places I’ve ever camped! No running water, and just a few rickety wooden outhouses scattered among the moss-draped, fog-shrouded redwoods…and to get there, a six-mile dirt road that is probably impassable in bad weather. My sister’s 4-Runner made it without a problem, and in fact it looked to me like pretty much any car could have made it at that time of year…but if you go after a rain, be warned!

IMG 6426 300x225 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

guy sleeping on the beach

Anyway, we had stocked up on supplies in Fort Bragg (the nearest town of any size), and we drove right through the forest down to the beach — one of those iconic, rugged northern California beaches that are always shrouded in mist and fog. It was gorgeous! The official campsites are all tucked back in the woods (a few have views of the beach), but I wanted to be right on the sand, so that when I opened my tent in the morning I would see nothing but the sea. It’s the one thing I miss most of all, living in Vegas. I’m not really sure you are technically permitted to camp where we did, but we used an existing fire ring and cleaned up a bunch of trash, leaving the place better than we found it….so, no harm no foul. And besides, this other kooky redneck drove up in the night and slept on an air mattress on his flatbed truck, right at the high-tide mark. When he woke up, he literally just sat up in bed, sparked a bowl, and sat there getting high and watching the waves. Noted for future reference!!!

20150709 104633 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Artsy…

Meanwhile, on her cross-country road trip my sister had stopped by to visit my stepmother in Tennessee…and come to find out, she’d sprinkled my dad’s ashes somewhere at Sinkyone! So my dad’s ghost might have even been out there, frolicking with the whales in the mist. Apparently, that was one of his favorite places…and in fact I remember him telling me about it waaaay back in the

20150709 104727 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

…and not-so-artsy

day, when I was like, “WHAT?! No running water?!?! How can you camp there?!?!?!” (Say what you will; Burning Man really toughened me up in that respect.) Anyway, I paid tribute to my dad’s memory in my own special way: my stripping off all my clothes and running into the chilly surf naked. HI DAD! 😀

 

IMG 6440 300x225 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Redwood country

From Sinkyone, we continued on north into Oregon. We didn’t really have a strict itinerary on this trip; we had to be at certain places on certain days for my photo shoots, but other than that, we were pretty flexible. My sis has this awesome app where you can find cheap/free campsites, so we basically just made it up as we went along — we knew we wanted to hit the Oregon Country Fair outside Eugene sometime over the weekend, so we just kind of puttered along the coast, through the redwood forests of Sasquatch country, stopping wherever looked good.

Alas, however, Oregon is a really fuckin’ rainy state, even in July…so it kinda put a damper on things for a few days. We ended up camping in a drizzly rainforest one night, swarmed with mosquitoes, sitting around a piddly campfire reading this amazing porn/romance e-book about a guy who has sex with a shapeshifting gay bear. I’m not kidding!!! Apparently, this genre is extremely popular in some quarters, and people are making a ton of money writing this crap — which gave us an idea. My sis and I are ever on the lookout for ways to make money from the road; maybe writing weird niche romance porn might be our thing…if we could only come up with a unique angle that hasn’t already been done.

Screen Shot 2015 08 04 at 2.06.44 PM 300x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Calling all sasquatches!

Hmmm…..looking around the gloomy, rainy forest, it hit us: SASQUATCH PORN! We started to formulate a plot based on a beautiful forest ranger’s daughter who falls in love with a sasquatch. But before getting too deep, I did some market research…and discovered to my dismay that Internet Rule 34 holds true — there’s already a WHOLE INDUSTRY devoted to bigfoot/sasquatch porn!!!! LMFAO/EWWWW!!!! The next morning at a seaside internet cafe I downloaded this gem called “Cum For Bigfoot,” by Ms. Virginia Wade, and we spent the next couple of nights reading that out loud around the fire. Goooooooooood times!

20150710 093227 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Yoo hoo…

But I mean, seriously…..if Sasquatch is real, then he’s totally asleep on the job; you’ve already been subjected to several photos of me wandering around naked in the woods, and I’m here to tell you I was never so much as molested once! Even when I went down to the creek one morning, naked and alone, to take a bath…there was no Bigfoot in sight :-/

20150710 211756 e1438727083913 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Boozing at the dunes RESPONSIBLY — in a reusable, non-glass container!!!

Anyhoo, it was raining all over fuckin’ Oregon, so we headed back out toward the coast to try and escape the damp out at the sand dunes near Coos Bay. I had always wanted to check them out, for some reason…but I am disappointed to report that they are nothing more than a playground for gas-guzzlin’, toy-haulin’, beer-drinkin’, ATV-riding rednecks — not a very peaceful place to camp. But at least it wasn’t raining! First we tried one of the tent campgrounds, but it was in a marshy area totally infested with mosquitoes…so we were forced to head out to this RV “campground” on the beach, which was basically just a big parking lot for rednecks to pull their toyhaulers into. We checked the reservation board and found an empty site, and I was just setting up my little tent on the tiny patch of grass allotted us…..when out of nowhere this redneck matron came barreling over: “My family has this whole area reserved! My son was camped here, but he had to leave early…so if you want to stay there, you can just pay me the $20 and I’ll vouch for ya…but you have to leave by noon, because our other son’s coming in.”

20150711 085730 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

trying to find peace on a beach full of whining ATVs

Are you serious?! I don’t know why we didn’t just pick up and move across the parking lot; instead, my sis forked over $20 into the matron’s greedy claw, and she toddled off crowing about how “I sold Joe’s spot! Heh heh!” Fuck you, ya greedy bitch! Even worse, when we were woken by the incessant whine of ATV motors the next morning….the whole family was gone!!! “Other son” coming in, my ass. And then, even worse, when I went for a barefoot run on the beach, I cut my toe on a broken beer bottle some redneck asshole had left hidden in the sand. Fuckin’ rednecks! I have zero patience for anyone who feels the need to prove their worth by being a noisy gas-guzzler — whether it’s a jet ski, an ATV, a dirt bike, a monster truck or a power boat…they’re rednecks, one and all, and I truly pity them. If I never see another dickhead in a Fox Racing flat-brim again for the rest of my life, I’ll be happy!!!!!! UGH!!!!

Anyway, as rednecked-out as I was, it was a good thing we were hitting the Oregon Country Fair later that day — it’s the polar opposite of the redneck scene, all dirty hippies and New Agers and granola moms. Whew! We cruised over to the fairgrounds, changed into our hippie clothes, mixed up some rum & Cokes and went in to be with our people. Ahhhhhh!

IMG956471 300x225 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

My people

If you’ve never been, the Oregon Country Fair is basically a mix of Burning Man and the Renaissance Faire — a bunch of kooky white people running around in whimsical fairy costumes in the middle of a forest, banging drums and smoking weed and selling their overpriced arts & crafts to the unsuspecting suburban looky-Lous who come in droves to check it out. In fact, if you’ve ever wanted to go to Burning Man but are too big a pussy to handle the desert and the logistics, the OR Country Fair is a great alternative — no playa dust, plenty of running water, and day use only — so you can come in, have your experience, and then be back in a comfy motel bed in Eugene by sundown. Check it out!

20150711 135444 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Bandaged toe from stepping on a broken beer bottle

I myself had a pretty good time, eating Himalayan food, pissing in a “Her-inal” (a urinal for women, where you squat over a trough, lift your skirts and cheerfully let loose while chatting with the woman next to you) and dancing with dreadlocked, body-odorous strangers at some kind of ecstatic movement jamboree under a canopy. Then I stumbled on a drum circle, and it was one of the most epic drum circles I’ve ever been to in my life!! A group of whackos was banging away in a grove of trees with a mad crowd of sweaty freaks jerking arrhythmically all around them, shaking tambourines and wailing to the heavens, everyone high as a kite and no one feeling any pain. Before long my headdress had come unraveled and my caftan was making me unbearably sweaty, so I checked with a friendly passer-by and learned that toplessness was OK — so I stowed my caftan and made a sort of sarong out of one of my headscarves, and kept on dancing like a beast!!! Bandaged toe and all!!

FB IMG 1436833483665 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

me and my neighbors from Vegas

Then, out of nowhere, who should show up but my neighbors from back in Vegas! This awesome hippie-type couple lives on the next street over from me and are good friends of mine, and I had forgotten that they were traveling for the summer as well, in their conversion van. At any rate, they were definitely feeling no pain and offered to let me in on their fun…but I declined in a rare moment of responsibility and just kept on dancing. I was thinking about the single more epic drum circle I’ve ever been to, at Burning Man 2011, and how there was this impish little man dancing there that I used to see at all the drum circles at Burning Man……..and then, wouldn’t you know, I ran into him, too!!!!! His Burner name is Ra, and in my mind I had built him up to be almost a magical elf spirit of the drum circle…but of course upon talking to him, he was nothing of the sort; his real name is Steve, and he couldn’t hear anything I was saying because his hearing aid was malfunctioning. D’oh!!!

20150711 204918 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

My setup

Anyway, unlike Burning Man, the Fair closes at dusk…and besides, I was tapped out money-wise and we had to find a camp spot for that night, so we headed out. Fortunately, by now we were in fertile hot spring country — there are a shit ton of hot springs in southeastern Oregon and Idaho, which was one of the main reasons for our trip…so we headed out to find a campsite near one of them. We headed for McCredie springs, in the forest beside a beautiful creek, and camped at a Forest Service campground nearby for around $8 (we tried to find free BLM campsites whenever possible, but it was getting dark)…and then in the morning, headed for the springs.

20150712 135837 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

McCredie Hot Springs

As far as hot springs go, these were OK — they have potential for being amazing, but a flood a couple winters back messed them up pretty badly, so the pools were a little muddy and very rustic. Apparently there used to be a hot springs resort at the site, and you can still see the concrete foundations here and there…it would just take a little work to make this place really bad-ass.

But regardless of the water quality, one of my FAVORITE (if not my #1 favorite) thing about hot springs is the people you meet at them. McCredie was excellent on that front — we met this adorable little herbalist guy from Eugene who was on a monthlong Thoreau-esque retreat, camping in the woods behind the springs somewhere on a beaver dam, and before long we were all fast friends. He was telling us about this weird plant he’d found growing in the woods, called Indian Pipe or ghost plant/corpse plant, due to its creepy pure-white stem and leaves and everything — apparently it’s very rare, and only grows in gloomy rainforest groves, but he had found a bunch and had been chewing it for its medicinal purposes…one of which was to relieve toothaches.

IMG956482 300x225 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

the herbalist explains what to do

“Toothache?!? I’ve had a toothache for two weeks!” I exclaimed. And it was true; around the 3rd of July, the roof of my mouth had started hurting really bad, though I wasn’t sure it was a toothache — I take very good care of my teeth, brushing and flossing religiously, since I don’t have dental insurance. But now it had been nine days, and I was starting to freak out — I was supposed to go directly to the Sturgis biker rally in South Dakota immediately after this trip; I had no time to go to the dentist!

IMG956481 300x225 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Doctor’s orders!!

Well, upon hearing of my tooth distress, my new friend jumped up right away and offered to run back to his camp and get me some Indian pipe from his personal stash — because he liked me, he said. It was a 20-minute run both ways, but he didn’t mind at all — and sure enough, about 40 minutes later he came huffing back with a baggie of mysterious white fungusy-looking things, and told me to chew one up, then swish the saliva around in my mouth as long as I could before swallowing.

IMG956484 300x225 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Chewing corpse plant

Now, you might say it’s foolish to take a strange plant from a strange man in the forest and then eat it (especially one called corpse plant)….but hell, what could I do?? I wanted my toothache to go away, and this little herbalist had appeared from the woods like a magical sprite in a Brothers Grimm tale — he had to know what he was talking about! So, I did as he instructed — and boy, was it nasty! He gave me the whole baggie to take with me, and told me to chew and swish every morning for 21 days, and my toothache would go away.

20150713 102007 e1438729113501 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Yikes!!!!!

Well, guess what? I had noticed that the herbalist’s teeth were kinda black and funky-looking, but I guess I just ascribed it to poor dental hygiene. So the next morning, after waking up and dutifully chewing and swishing another plant, and drinking a cup or two of black coffee….I looked in the mirror, and saw that my tongue had turned black!!!! And my gums and teeth had a greyish cast to them, too! YIKES!!! I tried to scrub it off with toothbrushing, Listerine swishing and tongue scraping….but it was no use; the black was really on there. On the plus side however, for the first time in almost two weeks my mouth pain was gone!!! So what do ya know….I think the little guy’s herbal advice actually worked!!

Since my tooth pain was gone, I bailed on the rest of my 21-day regimen, and gave the plants back to the Earth. And eventually the blackness went away — but the tooth pain never came back simple smile Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition! Thank you, forest sprite!! I guess there *IS* magic in the woods!!!

20150713 104344 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Cougar Reservoir, near the hot springs

Anyway, while all this black-tongue stuff was going on, we had moved on to check out legendary Terwilliger (also known as Cougar) Hot Springs. These springs had been recommended to me by various soakers at various hot springs over the years as being one of the best there are, so I knew I wanted to check them out — even though they were said to be really crowded because all those dirty hippies from the Oregon Country Fair like to go there. Alas, camping is not permitted at the actual springs…but we found a really nice campground a few miles down the road, and headed over in the morning for a nice, long soak.

20150713 104754 e1438731293917 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

You have been warned!!

The only bummer about Cougar/Terwilliger springs is, some bullshit concessionaire somehow got the go-ahead to “manage” them, and they charge you $6 for day use — and they close at sunset. WTF!!!! I’m used to my beautiful wild desert springs, and I chafed at the idea of paying some asswipe for the privilege of soaking. But, they do clean them out once a week, and they also maintain a couple of vault toilets onsite…so I guess it’s worth it. Plus, nudity is fully allowed/to be expected (in fact, you can even hike in naked, once you’re out of sight of the road), so you never have to worry about putting on a swimsuit (unless you want to). That right there is worth $6, in my book!

Cougar/Terwilliger is basically a series of beautiful pools ranging from super-hot to warm, sort of stair-stepping their way down a shady ravine through which a creek flows. The pools are hand-made from very rustic stone, with sandy bottoms and good flow, so the water feels very clean. A beautiful forest surrounds them, and makes for a wonderful place to laze about for a day or two — we got there around noon, and stayed til 6 or so…but  I can definitely see staying longer than that. (The pools were full of naked people, so I couldn’t take any photos of them, alas.)

20150713 140000 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

The creek

The springs didn’t seem too crowded that day (it was a Monday), so I guess most of the Country Fair hippies had already gone home — but there were still plenty of interesting people to talk to. A Deadhead Burner named Eric Goldberg tipped me off to an abandoned blueberry bog in Washington state, and then gave me a few buds from his personal grow as a parting gift, and told me to look him up on Facebook — but alas, when I tried to do so, there were only around 5,000 Eric Goldbergs, so I struck out.

20150713 142340 e1438731447329 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Soaking in the sun at Terwilliger

Another stoner kid was smoking dabs in the pool, and gave me a hit — I’d never smoked a dab (basically a dab of cannabis wax that you heat until it starts smoking, then inhale the smoke), and one tiny puff of that got me high as a kite pretty much all day long. I’m a lightweight, I tell you — I normally just take 3 or 4 hits of dried-up ditchweed every night before bed, to help me sleep. I can’t handle this hardcore shit! Worse, the kid was using a hookah charcoal to heat up the dabs, which he left smoldering there on the side of the pool…and in my baked state I forgot it was there, and when I went to lay down for a nap I accidentally burned the shit out of my Achilles tendon. OUCH!!! The perils of hot springs!

 

 

20150713 142704 e1438731352857 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

OMG this waterfall!!!

Then there was this other stoner kid, but this guy had a real medical reason for smoking — he suffered chronic pain and severe PTSD from being a victim of a school shooting several years ago! Some disgruntled bozo had stormed into his high school and shot him and a bunch of others, and he barely survived. He was really cool, though, and even took us on this little hike down the creek to a secret, hidden waterfall in the forest that was one of the most amazingly beautiful things I’ve ever seen — I mean, it was UNREAL! Like being in Hawaii or something — absolutely amazing. My poor, long-suffering sis was pressed into photographer duty yet again — all the nudies you see here in this post were taken by her. She’s pretty good, eh???

 

 

20150713 141548 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Waterfall!!!!

But the MOST interesting person we met at Cougar/Terwilliger was this artist guy who had been living in his Honda Civic (!!!) in Bolinas, ever since being priced out of San Francisco ten years ago. He was a super legit guy, very intelligent and nice to talk to, and the fact that he lived in Bolinas was icing on the cake; Bolinas is this weird, reclusive little hippie town on the coast north of San Fran that I’ve been DYING to check out, but never seem to get to on my travels :-/ This guy was also cool because he has a niece who’s a traveling nude model, so he understood exactly what it is that I do, and didn’t judge me or assume I’m a hooker or whatever. In fact, it turned out that the niece and I are Facebook friends — what a small world!

20150713 141928 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

When camping, you have to take showers when you can!

But the BEST thing about this guy was that he knew all about those secret tidal hot springs in Marin County, down by Stinson Beach — the ones you can only soak in when the moon and the tide are just right. Ever since hearing about these mysterious springs last summer, I’ve been dying to go to them — so we all made plans (the guy, his niece, my sis and I) to try and meet up at the end of the month for a soak, before I went back to Vegas. (Alas, it did end up working out, to my immense disappointment….but hey; if you’re reading this and you live in the area and you want to check them out sometime, I’ll be back up there in November/December! Let’s go!)

20150713 195148 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

the desert beckons…

After leaving Cougar/Terwilliger, my sis and I headed east toward Idaho — I had photo shoots lined up, so we were more or less on a timetable by this point. Besides, we wanted to stop in Bend, at this amazing burrito place called Parilla Grill that makes the most astonishingly delicious, foodie burritos you’ve ever tasted — but after beasting, we continued on. At least eastern Oregon is basically high desert, so we figured we’d be safe from the fucking rain that had been bedeviling us the entire trip — but, wouldn’t you know, it even rained on us as we entered the desert!!!!

20150714 140013 e1438732066509 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

You girls be careful!!!!

On the way across eastern Oregon we stopped at a couple hot springs, just to check them out — first we hit this place near Juntura, where the springs are on an island in the middle of a fairly deep, swift-flowing river. On the way in, some old kook warned us he’d seen a rattlesnake on the riverbank…so my sis sat this one out, and I carefully waded across to the springs by myself. It was actually a really nice place to camp — a great, hot, sandy-bottomed pool, with plenty of flat area nearby for tents and stuff — but it would have been tough to ford all our gear across the river, so we left.

20150714 171753 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Snively hot springs

Next we stopped at a little spot on the Owyhee River called Snively hot springs, right on the Oregon/Idaho border. It was a pretty nice little spring, right on the edge of the river, and one of those deals where super-hot spring water flows in and mixes with the river water in a little sectioned-off pool someone built on the riverbank. You just move around until you find a spot that suits you — but to really enjoy this soak, you’d want to bring one of those low-rise beach chairs with you, so you could just sit wherever. REI makes really sweet collapsible low-rise camp chairs that would be perfect, so I need to get one stat!!

20150715 114819 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Morning on the Payette River

Anyway, technically you can camp near Snively hot springs….but there was a family hanging out with kids, so we couldn’t go nude or anything, and thus decided to move on into Idaho. Which is an absolute BONANZA of hot springs — I mean, I’ve never seen anything like it in my life!!!! Prior to this trip, I always thought of Idaho as strictly the domain of Mormons and white supremacists — but I’m here to tell you, I have RARELY seen such astonishing natural beauty, and I have NEVER seen better hot springs! If you’re a hot spring buff…..I recommend you visit Idaho, ASAP!

20150715 115534 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

One of the pools at Hot Springs Campground

The first place we camped was along the Payette River, in the Sawtooth National Forest. There are close to a billion breathtakingly beautiful hot springs right along the banks of this river, and in fact there’s even a Forest Service campground called Hot Springs Campground that is right across the street from a little all-natural 24-hour soaking pool. Highly recommended! We set up camp, ate dinner, and then took our drinks down for a late-nite soak — it was fantastic! And most astonishingly, we were the only two people there; as with most of the amazingly beautiful sites we visited in Idaho, there was little tourist traffic, even in summer. Weird!

20150715 152145 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Overview of Kirkham — hard to show all the magical little pools and waterfalls

The most beautiful hot spring we visited on the Payette was this place called Kirkham, right off the highway adjacent to a campground of the same name. This place actually was kinda crowded, with a bunch of families and stuff hanging out (so you couldn’t go nude)…but it was so amazingly beautiful and accessible that it didn’t bother me — I would go back again in a hot minute.

20150715 142237 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

in a sauna cave at Kirkham hot springs

Now, Kirkham was also the same springs that the reader of this blog had invited me to come visit — if you remember from the beginning of this post, the whole reason I came up to Idaho in the first place was to stay at his cabin there and do a photo shoot. Well, guess what — despite emailing back and forth several times in the months leading up to my trip, once I actually got to the area, I never heard

20150715 152213 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

the crystal-clear, turquoise blue waters of the Payette at Kirkham

from the guy again! It was the weirdest thing — I emailed him a few days before the shoot, and he never responded. I even hung around the area for a few days, hoping he had just forgotten to check his email……but no dice; he totally stood me up. I have half a mind to put him on blast here, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt; maybe something terrible happened to him, and he’s laid up in a hospital somewhere, unable to text or email.

20150715 142028 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

there are TONS of perfect little soaking pools at Kirkham

Either way, it was a pretty big blow — not only was I supposed to shoot with him, but he also had a photographer friend in Boise who was supposedly going to hire me as well, which would have helped pay for gas and stuff on the trip. Well, I never did hear from either of them. And even WORSE, I also had a shoot lined up in Boise for this beautiful giantess’s fetish site, AmazonAmanda.com… and her funding ended up falling thru as well!!!!! So basically, what was to have been over $1000 worth of bookings fell thru frownie Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition! At least Amazon Amanda was cool about it, and still hired me for a quick one-hour consolation shoot, out of her own pocket (more on that later).

20150715 140442 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

hot waterfall meets cold river water at Kirkham

Well…..that’s the risk you run, being a freelance model; sometimes you get flaked on. But when you’re traveling like that, it’s even worse. I don’t know how these girls who travel full-time do it! Thankfully, I had already busted my hump back in Vegas, and had enough cash set aside to cover me…so I just went about my business, enjoying the beautiful hot springs.

20150715 114540 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Morning soak in the Payette

Anyway, after hanging around the Payette River area a few days waiting to hear from the flake photographer, my sis and I headed up farther north, where apparently all the really good hot springs are. When I was at Deep Creek hot spring in southern California earlier this summer, an old-timer there was telling me about the three most beautiful hot springs in the world: Deep Creek, another one he couldn’t remember, and then this place called Gold Bug, up near Salmon, ID. Since we had some extra time because my shoots all flaked, we decided to head up and check it out.

20150716 163044 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Gold Bug!!!!

Oh….my….Gawd!!!!!! That place was, without question, the most beautiful hot spring I’ve ever been to in my life!!!!! I hesitate to gush too much about it, for fear of incurring the wrath of the the locals and regulars who want to keep out the riff-raff….but I can’t help it, I was raised to share, so share I must. Besides, this place is remote enough that not just any half-asser can reach it; not only is it waaaay up north, but you also have to hike up a steep, two-mile trail to reach the springs. It’s not for the faint of heart.

20150715 212101 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

campsite

My sis and I camped out the night before on the banks of the Salmon River, at some little BLM fishing camp — now that we were off the beaten path, there were more free options for camping. Most of the time, we were the only two people around; occasionally there would be a fisherman or two nearby, but no one ever bothered us other than to give us free firewood. They probably all thought we were lesbians, and thus not worth fucking with. Who knows?!

20150716 141628 e1438736266760 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

waterfalls feeding the pools

Anyway, it was a great campsite and in the morning, we packed up and headed up to Gold Bug for a relaxing day of soaking nude in nature. Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! It was                        F A N T A S T I C ! ! ! First off, Gold Bug was every bit as beautiful as I’d been told — a series of natural stone pools of varying temperatures, with cascading hot and cold waterfalls, perfect for a hydro-massage or for just laying around boozing and relaxing, with the most incredible view looking straight down a majestic canyon. I mean, it was like something out of a movie — unreal!! 

There are, in fact, a few little camp areas up there too — but you’d have to pack all your gear up that steep-ass two mile trail, so you’d have to be pretty hardcore to do it. I’d say it’s about the same difficulty as the hike to Bowen Ranch from Deep Creek; if you’ve ever done that, you know what I mean.

20150716 115242 e1438736306574 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

an easy part of the trail up to Gold Bug

Apparently, people even camp up there in the winter time — there’s a spot where hot air vents up from the underground hot water source, through this little cave under a tree, and some people will open their tent onto this vent to get warm…even though the cave is a popular hangout for snakes!!! Yikes, no thanks — although it would be awesome to soak up there in the snow, with mist rising from the water. I’m not sure I’m that hardcore yet, though :-/

Anyway, we found out all this insider info from this super-hot local fireman who was hanging out up there. He was cool, but at first I thought he was pretty square — he made some disparaging remarks about “dope” smoking, and he kinda had that clean-cut Mormon look to him. But after a few hours, he finally removed his swim trunks and I noticed he didn’t have any tan lines….so he must at least be a habital nudist. Either way, he was cool as fuck — and he took a liking to my sis and I, and even took us on a TOP SECRET excursion to THE. MOST. BEAUTIFUL. PLACE. I’VE. EVER. SEEN!!!!!!!

20150716 141741 e1438736873119 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

my sis and the fireman

I promised him I would not reveal the location, so I didn’t even take any photos….but OMG. It was indescribably beautiful — a sort of grotto in a moss-covered cave with a waterfall coming down through a natural skylight; just amazing. I wish I would have taken some nudies in there, but I didn’t want to piss our guide off — even though, once he saw me posing for nudes back at the regular pools, he seemed to think it would be OK. But anyway, I guess it’s cool to have some secrets simple smile Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

I’m telling you, I could have stayed at those hot springs forever…but eventually we had to hike out, as we still had to find a campsite for that evening. The wonderful thing about Idaho is, in the summer it doesn’t get dark til around 10pm, so we always had plenty of time to make camp. The fireman ended up hiking out with us; my sis later said she caught a slight hookup vibe from him, and to be honest I did notice he had a semi at one point…but he never made a move or anything, so we all just parted as friends. That’s naturism for ya!

20150717 212911 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

camping at the Magic Reservoir, in the middle of nowhere

From Gold Bug, we headed back down south toward Boise — we wanted to hit the big rodeo in town that weekend, plus I was supposed to meet Amazon Amanda for the one-hour consolation shoot. But on the way back to the city, we stopped for a couple nights to camp at ultra-remote BLM fishing reservoirs (for free!!!) and to hike around Craters of the Moon National Monument.

 

20150717 191211 e1438737202616 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

a trail at Craters of the Moon

Holy cow, was that place ever weird! Craters is basically miles and miles of lava fields; a totally lunar landscape of black and gray and brown and red, with caves you can explore and all kinds of bizarre, otherworldly formations. After the classic, lush beauty of Gold Bug it was somewhat jarring…but still cool in its way. We hiked every single one of the trails there and even went down into most of the caves — over 10 miles, and I did it all in flip flops. I was trying to burn a few calories off all the camping food I was eating — for most of this trip, my sis and I ate Frito Pie for dinner, which is not very healthy (it’s just chili and cheese over Fritos…but we added some canned veggies to try and make it more nutritious). To be honest, I got kind of obsessed with Frito Pie — my sis discovered it while road-tripping thru the South, and we literally ate it almost every single night, just putting the cans directly into the campfire to heat up before layering it all in our bowls. OMG, just writing about it makes me want more!!!

20150718 192443 e1438737767802 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Rodeo!!

Anyway, once we got back in to Boise we finally checked into a motel and got cleaned up, mixed some rum & Cokes and headed over to the Ford Arena for the Snake River Stampede…a/k/a the RODEO! Let me tell you, there is nothing as amazing as a red state rodeo on a Saturday night — lassos a-flyin’, Stars & Stripes a-wavin’, and beautiful big-haired rodeo queens everywhere you look. They even did a special Salute to the Troops, with flashing lights and horseback badassery and an announcer intoning ominously about what ISIS would do if they had their way — “they’d take your Freedom in a New York minute!” It was amazing!!!!

20150719 142954 e1438738995390 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Me and Amazon Amanda

As expected, we were pretty hungover the next day…but I had to sack up and get ready for my consolation shoot with Amazon Amanda, at the Holiday Inn over by the Boise airport. Now, who is Amazon Amanda, you ask? Well, she’s a BBW giantess — 6’3″ and around 350 pounds, and she runs a fetish website catering to guys with smother fetishes. One of our mutual fans contacted me about setting up a shoot with her here in Vegas last month, but he never came thru with her cash, so we had to postpone — but when we realized we were both going to be in Boise in July, we arranged to do the shoot there. Unfortunately, as previously mentioned the fan backed out AGAIN…but I’m glad I at least got to meet her, as she is one seriously bad-ass person!

 

 

IMG 20150719 152833 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

I’ll never run for office now!

First of all, imagine you are 6 feet tall as a freshman in high school — and a BBW, too! But instead of sitting around feeling sorry for herself, Amanda took charge of her destiny and instead of trying to deny what she was, she found a way to embrace it…and monetize it. Mad props to you, lady!! Now she travels the world doing private domination/smothering sessions, and maintaining her pay website…which is what she hired me for. We did a few clips of her squashing me and whatnot, which will soon be available for purchase at AmazonAmanda.com, if you’re interested.

 

 

Screen Shot 2015 08 04 at 6.44.33 PM 300x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

hairy pits after about 3 weeks of growth

 

Now, one interesting thing about my shoot with Amanda was that I hadn’t had a shoot or a gig since that romance novel audition I did in late June…so, as is my wont, I hadn’t been shaving my armpits or anything for about three weeks. I had taken to posting hairy pit pics on Instagram, and had amassed quite a fan base in the meantime — so I was kinda loath to shave my pits unless I really had to; come to find out, some guys are REALLY into hairy armpits!

So when I got to the Holiday Inn, I told Amanda what was going on and offered to shave if she wanted — but to my delight,

Screen Shot 2015 08 04 at 6.44.46 PM 300x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

5 weeks of growth
by Shutterbug Studio

she was THRILLED that my pits were hairy; apparently, she gets lots of requests for hairy armpitted models, and in fact also gets requests to grow her own pits out (which she says she’s unable to). So I was able to keep my armpit hair, and she even advised me never to shave again; she seems to think I would make way more money as a niche fetish model than doing what I currently do. HMMMMMM! Food for thought. As it stands today, I haven’t shaved in about 5 weeks…and my pits are really hairy, but I’m going to have to shave them soon because I have a couple of paid gigs coming up, where pit hair won’t fly frownie Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition! But I’m enjoying them in the meantime…I just love shocking people in 20150719 142947 e1438739276851 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!public when I lift my arms, hahahahahahahha!

Anyway, another interesting thing about my shoot with Amanda was that her photographer had flaked (hmm, a pattern)…so my sis had to step in as videographer/photographer! It was her first (and probably only) paid gig as a pornographess, and I hope it didn’t scar her too badly :-/ Either way, our visit with Amanda paid for her oil change, our motel room and a few nights of Frito Pie as well simple smile Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

After shooting with Amanda, we decided to spend one more day up on the beautiful Payette River before leaving Idaho and heading down toward Lake Tahoe, where my grandma was having a birthday party the following Saturday. We found a free campsite on some BLM land along the river near a shooting range — the sound of gunfire was kinda unnerving, but other than that it was an OK spot. There were also a few rednecks camped out there panning for gold in the river; they kept coming around sniffing for companionship and/or puss, but I guess they also thought we were lesbians because they all left us alone in the end.

20150720 192252 e1438740828753 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Hanging out at Skinny Dipper hot springs

For our last Idaho hot spring, we headed up to Skinny Dipper for a relaxing day of soaking and reading in the shade. Skinny Dipper is apparently a very popular party spot, so much so that the BLM is closing it down at the end of the year because of all the litter and pollution — personally, I found it very clean at the time of my visit, so I have a feeling there’s a lot of hyperbole going around, but whatever.

Anyway, when we first got there, a group of dorky gamer-type kids were hanging out, and we all started chatting. I asked how they knew each other, and they kind of hemmed and hawed, “Uh, from work….?” But as the conversation wore on and they became more comfortable, it turned out they were all kinksters from some local Boise BDSM group, LOL!! I can’t imagine being a kinkster in a city like Boise — it’s such a nice, wholesome family-type town! But apparently, according to these kids, there was a little scene going on there, and they had their parties and their fun. Awwww! I told them about Amazon Amanda, so they knew I was cool about such things…I guess.

20150720 192027 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Beautiful Skinny Dipper hot springs…no trash in sight

After the kinkster kids left it was just my sis and I for most of the day. Another couple came by a while later, and you could tell they were kinda frisky from being naked outdoors with strangers, but they were cool and they left after less than an hour. So my sis and I mostly had the place to ourselves, boozing and napping and reading all day long, and it was all very relaxing….until

Late in the afternoon, this family hiked up — mom, dad, grown son and daughter (son was 24, daughter around 22). The mom and daughter came and sat in the middle pool with my sis and I (which was really the only soakable pool at the time of our visit; the lower pool was much too hot, and the upper pool was full of algae), and we chatted for a while. They seemed nice enough, but didn’t take off their swimsuits or anything (my sis and I were naked all day).

Finally, the daughter worked up the nerve to ask us, “You can say no, but would you mind putting on your bikinis for a while so that my dad and brother can come soak? I’m sorry; we’re from Pennsylvania…” As if that’s any reason to be a prude!!!

20150720 193811 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Ummm….hello!!

To be polite, we both acquiesced…but a friend later said we should have handed them our bikini tops to use as blindfolds, so that they didn’t have to see our scandalous, flame-belching demon twats!!! And, seriously…..this is a hot spring called SKINNY DIPPER, with signs along the trail going in saying “WARNING: YOU MAY ENCOUNTER BARES!” I mean….WTF were you people expecting?!?!?

20150720 192122 e1438740885983 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!Sadly, the law was on their side; even at a hot spring where nudity is the custom (like at Terwilliger/Cougar), if the spring is on US Forest Service or BLM land, even if there are 100 people hanging out naked, if one person comes along and asks that everyone put on swimsuits, by law everyone must comply. How fucking puritanical is this shit?! It’s just bodies, people!!!!! Get your heads out of your asses! If people were used to seeing it all the time, it wouldn’t be such a big deal…..ya know?!?

20150721 182408 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Contrary to popular belief…I do know when to say when

Anyway, the family left after awhile (and left an empty plastic water bottle behind, which my sinful sis and I packed out for them)…but the vibe was kinda ruined, so we pretty much got the fuck out of Idaho after that. Our plan was to head back down through eastern Oregon and camp at another desert hot spring before crossing down into Nevada…but as we were heading south on U.S.93, we saw massive thunderheads rolling in from where else but miserable, rain-sodden Oregon. I swear, even the desert part of that soggy-ass state is wet as fuck — curses!!!

20150722 123430 e1438741030321 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

this is Winnemucca!!!

I’m OK camping in rain, but a thunderstorm on a big open prairie like that freaks me out — so we changed course and headed toward the glamorous metropolis of Winnemucca, Nevada, thinking to get a motel room for the night. It was raining all over that part of the country — Nevada too :-/ But we couldn’t find a room for less than $50, and we both absolutely refused to pay more than that — for the caliber of motels available in that dogforsaken burg, $40 is more than enough. To charge more than that is robbery, pure and simple, and we refused to take part in it. Does anyone reading this know why a motel would rather have a room sit empty than to rent it at a cheaper price? We tried Priceline and Orbitz and everything! Do they get some kind of write-off for empty rooms that makes it cost-effective to keep them empty?!? Inquiring minds want to know!

 

20150722 123216 e1438741072495 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

the beautiful aspen grove

Rather than shell out $50+ for a shitty room, we found a free BLM campsite south of town, along this little creek in a beautiful aspen grove — perfect!! The rain let up long enough for us to set up camp and enjoy a fire, and then we spent a cozy night, protected somewhat from the rain by the canopy of trees overhead. (All this time I was camping in a $20 kids’ tent from Wal-Mart, that’s not technically waterproof…but my sis had an old rain fly I borrowed, and I was cool. But I do need to get a better tent!)

In the morning, it stayed dry long enough to pack up camp and even to do this mini-workout I came up with that I called the Prison Workout — basically, just using a picnic table bench to do pushups, dips, crunches and Bulgarian squats. Gotta stay fit, even while on vacation!!! We did this workout a few times on our trip, with me playing whatever gangster rap I had on my cellphone for a soundtrack — I mean, we must have really looked like two lesbians!!!!! No wonder no one fucked with us the entire trip, no matter how much we ran around naked, smoking weed and cursing!!!!

20150722 155248 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

at the Thunder Mountain Monument

By now it was pissing rain again. I know there’s supposedly a horrible drought going on in the West, but I mean, come on!! It seems like everywhere I’ve gone this year, I’ve been dodging bullshit rain. Sheeshhh!!!!! We whiled away a few hours in Winnemucca, checking out this bizarre abandoned casino they turned into a visitors’ center/Buckaroo Museum, and then headed west on I-80 to see if the rain would stop. It did not. So we made a soggy detour to this weird Native American monument at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere — a sort of arts & crafts compound made from baling wire and baby dolls, with a few old bottles thrown in for good measure. I’m still not sure WTF it exactly was, but it was interesting.

20150722 155501 e1438742393286 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

More Thunder Mountain

From there, we continued west, deciding to make up our minds in Fernley: if it was still raining, we’d head into Reno a day early and get a cheap motel room (where you can at least get a room for $30). If the rain had cleared, we’d head up north to the Black Rock Desert, where Burning Man will be held in a month or so. We thought it would be cool to see the playa in the off-season, with no one else around…plus, there are some hot springs up there that are closed during Burning Man, that I’ve always wanted to check out.

Well, when we got to Fernley it was still sort of raining, but looked like it was clearing up…so we took a chance. We headed up north to the tiny town of Gerlach, noteworthy for being the last town you pass thru on the way to Burning Man. There’s not much there, but there is this little cafe called Bruno’s Country Club that I’ve also always wanted to check out…but every time I’ve passed it I’ve been towing 50,000 pounds of crap, so I never took the time to stop.

20150722 192229 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Mmmm….soylent green

Well, now I can say that I’ve tried it — and I found it grossly overrated! I think it’s one of those places people like because it reminds them of Burning Man or something — I can’t think why else you would eat there. I had the “world-famous” ravioli for $17, and it tasted really sketchy, like there was ground-up hippie in them or something. Bleccccchhhhh!!!!! Give me Frito Pie any night of the week!

20150723 092251 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

the secret campsite

After paying up, we got the fuck out of that tourist trap and headed for this top-secret camp spot some friends had told me about, off Jungo Road near Trego Hot Springs. Trego Hot Springs are all right, but there’s no trees or anything to camp under, and it’s not very scenic…but this other, secret location was pretty sweet! Lots of trees, and little ponds full of frogs and tadpoles and whatnot — very peaceful. I would gladly tell you all about this place, but I have little doubt that hideous wrath would be rained upon me by a legion of outraged Burning Man habitués, and I just don’t feel like dealing with it.

20150723 090655 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

I got your view of the desert right here!

In any event, I got enough wrath rained upon me in the morning, when this sanctimonious hippy harpy came out for a morning swim and asked/told my sister to move her car because it was blocking her view of the desert. Bitch, please!!!!!! It’s not YOUR view of the desert. Ugh, I hate people like that — she could see we were packing up to leave, so if it had been me, I would have just asked how much longer we were going to be. There are nice ways of saying things…ya know?

20150723 090755 e1438743245568 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

I spy a douchebag in an sparklepony-infested RV on his way to Burning Man!

Anyway, this harpy turned out to be OK once my sister moved her car — it turns out she does a sort of gong-therapy class at Burning Man, which I have actually attended before: you lay there on the ground and they bang all these gongs around you, so that the vibrations wash over you like waves. It’s really trippy! She had a mini gong with her, in fact, and invited us over to her RV to hear it. She also had some new baby kittens we wanted to check out…but the inside of her RV smelled so strongly of cat piss that we got the fuck out of there as quickly as possible. Don’t get me wrong; her rig was very clean and neat, but the kittens had to piss somewhere, so to that end she had a litter box, and it reeked. But her gongs were really cool. Incidentally, the friend I went to Deep Creek with in June gave me a cymbal, which I was thinking to make into a gong…but this woman said she’d never heard of anyone doing it. Idk, it seems pretty logical to me….anyone???

IMG956722 300x225 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

soaking at Trego Hot Springs

After the woman bathed us in gong waves, we bid her adieu and headed on up the road a bit to Trego Hot Springs. They’re nice enough; a muddy-bottomed sort of ditch with a nice temperature, right beside a railroad track. The railroad tracks got us wondering WHY, if Burning Man is so concerned with being “green,” they don’t ship all their shit up there via rail, instead of using all those carcinogen-belching trucks, vans and and rickety Diesel schoolbuses?? These days they’re trying to “reduce the carbon footprint” of Burning Man by issuing a strictly limited number of vehicle passes…but it’s all a fuckin’ farce. There is no way that event will EVER have a carbon footprint less than the size of Montana!!!

20150723 112742 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

all alone on the playa where Burning Man is held

Since we were so close to the playa, we took a little walk across the tracks and down onto the actual lakebed itself, and went out onto the future site of Black Rock City. It was surreal, as the only other times I’ve been there I was surrounded by 40-, 50- or 60,000+ wailing, blathering hippies and douchebags, with pounding electronic music blocking out everything but the most inane conversations! This time, however, it was just my sister and I — party of two. On a side note, the playa seemed pretty spongy from all the rain that had just passed through (we saw thunderstorms the night before)…so I think it’s going to be a very dusty year!! Although there’s always some asshole hater who goes up early and says that, every year. Well…..congratulations to me. This year, *I* get to be that asshole!!!

20150723 1616190 e1438743439266 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Ahhhhh

After finishing our pre-Burning Man circle jerk, we finally headed down to Reno to wind up our trip with a relaxing night at the Ramada Inn, which I was able to get for a very reasonable $30 on Priceline. THAT’s what I’m talking about! We were able to shower and wash our hair and get presentable before heading to Tahoe the next day, for our grandma’s birthday party, so it was $30 well spent. I even had a little time to hang out at the pool, and read this amazing 1970s trashy novel I picked up at a little thrift store on the Idaho-Oregon border.

20150723 184454 e1438744253271 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Reno is being overtaken by Burning Man hipsters

Now, ever since we’d first entered eastern Oregon, and on into Idaho and northern Nevada, we’d been in Basque country — for whatever reason, a shit ton of Basque people settled in the area when they fled Spain or France or wherever. We kept seeing signs for Basque this and Basque that, and we were really curious to try Basque cuisine. So, even though it was rated “$$” on Yelp (normally we only went to places rated “$” on Yelp, or just ate Frito Pie), we decided to try the Santa Fe hotel in downtown Reno. It was walking distance from the Ramada, and afterward, a photographer I was Facebook friends with had invited us out for drinks.

Well, Basque restaurants (or at least this one, anyway) are family-style — they seat you at a big table, with a bunch of other people, and you all pass plates around and eat the same prix-fixe menu (which here was $19 — not bad). As luck would have it, the hostess seated us at a table of florid-faced middle-aged horndogs who were well into their cups, and full of innuendo — I’m used to much worse, so it didn’t faze me, but my sister was really freaked out. I bantered back and forth with their dirty old man jokes all evening long as we passed around plates of Basque food, which come to find out is really weird, sort of bland, greasy meat- and carb-heavy stuff like beans, braised oxtails, porkchops, steak, spaghetti and bread. REALLY weird food, but it tasted good enough and I was starving — plus, you get to wash it down with unlimited Basque red wine, which was pretty good. Also, the head perv at our table bought us glasses of Picon Punch, a bitter sort of Basque cocktail that reminded me of my beloved Campari….so basically I would have eaten just about anything at that point.

20150724 123711 e1438744298684 169x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Having coffee the next morning, along the Truckee River trail

Except Basque dick — which was what these pervs had in mind, I think. They kept inviting us back to their hotel, where their “social club” was having some sort of meeting — come to find out, they were all members of an offshoot of the Shriners called the Jesters, that were basically like the dirty little brothers of the Shriners; I Googled them after they left, and all kinds of freaky stories popped up! Anyway, that’s why they were out catting around; the main guy was Basque, and wanted to show his fellow clubmembers what his people’s cuisine was all about.

Whatever the case, they were essentially harmless…and shocker, the head guy ended up paying for our whole dinner. Score! We got the hell out of there before he could change his mind, and headed over to Midtown to meet up with this photographer who had invited us for drinks, and then sat around boozing with him and his girlfriend for a couple hours before calling it a night and dragging our exhausted asses all the way back across town to the Ramada. Note to self: it’s worth the extra $6 to get a hotel closer to downtown!!!

20150724 132852 e1438744464239 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Hi Mom!

Anyway, the only other interesting thing that happened in Reno was the next morning, we were browsing around some souvenir shops and my sister spotted ANOTHER use of my infamous showgirl stock photo — this time, on a “Greetings From Nevada” card!!! My ass is basically being used to sell the state of Nevada — how awesome is that?! I always wanted to be the official ambASSador of Nevada, har har. I told the lady at the register it was me, but she still made me pay $3 for the card…so I could only afford to buy one frownie Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition! Remember, I was never paid one red cent for posing for that photo! I thought I’d be smart, go home and order them online for cheaper…but I couldn’t find them anywhere!!! They were made by Leanin’ Tree, so if you happen to be out and about and see any for cheap…buy me a few, would ya?! I gave my only copy to my mom simple smile Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

20150726 145939 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

hiking at Lake Tahoe

Well, now our trip was winding down. We headed over the pass to Lake Tahoe, where we met up with my paternal grandmother, and almost all my aunts, uncles and cousins from that side of the family as well — my grandma was so happy, it was awesome. She had rented a bunch of cabins for everyone to sleep in, so we stayed for a couple of days and had a nice, relaxing time just hanging out on the beach and hiking in the mountains. I just love it up there in the summer — SO freaking beautiful!! Every once in a while my grandma or someone would say something about Facebook, and I’d cringe — I mean, I post some truly awful stuff on there, and I forget that both my poor grandmothers are my Facebook friends, and possibly see this shit. Hopefully, they have both blocked me from their feed….I can only hope :-/

20150729 134417 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

At Gualala

From Tahoe, we finished our trip by circling back down to where we’d started — the redwood forests around the Russian River, where my mom and sister live. My mom was feeling left out of all our fun, so we all three went camping one more night, up on the coast near Gualala — this super cool little hippie beach town with some really nice hiking trails. We gave our mom a glimpse into our camping lifestyle, even making her Frito Pie (which she was horrified by; she eats pretty healthy), and all in all it was a very nice evening, and a nice way to end the trip.

20150731 141035 e1438746975106 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Kayaking topless on the Russian River, the day before I left

Now after all this, I was supposed to come back to Vegas for a day or two, and then leave for the big Sturgis bike rally with my friend Blondie, with whom I hustled at the rallies in Reno, and at Sturgis two years ago. Despite really trying, we hadn’t been able to find legitimate jobs out there — the manager of the Knuckle Saloon, where we worked in 2013, wouldn’t hire us back; he said he preferred to hire local girls, but I heard thru the grapevine that really, one of the bartenders hadn’t gotten along with Blondie, who can be kind of a bitch sometimes…so she probably told him not to hire us back.

In any event, job or no job we still planned to go, and just hustle for tips posing for photos, like we did in Reno. We even had a free place to stay — camping on the front lawn of one of the cooks from the Knuckle Saloon (there are so few hotel rooms up there, lots of people camp out…it’s not as weird as it sounds). The only question was figuring out how to get there — if we flew into Rapid City, we wouldn’t be able to bring much camp gear with us, and we wouldn’t have any way of getting to Sturgis, so we’d have to rent a car. It seemed smarter (and cheaper) to me to just drive there — we could rent a car, stash all our camp gear, and haul ass straight thru from Vegas. I would have even offered to drive my truck, but the brakes were fucked up and I didn’t have time to get them fixed before we left.

552646 507918615955677 1925021575 n 225x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

At Sturgis in 2013

Well, Blondie and I texted back and forth for a few weeks…and then the night before I left to come back to Vegas, she said she’d met a guy who would give her a ride out — but he was leaving at 3am that night. I told her I’d call her to discuss — I would have probably hauled ass back to Vegas in time to meet up with them and go along…but she never answered. That bitch just stone cold blew me off!!!! I texted her a few times after that, and she never answered once!

Ooooh, I’ve never been so pissed off at someone in my life — I mean, that’s cold blooded! My feelings were hurt, too — I mean, I thought we were friends, considering all the bullshit I went through with her at that ill-fated Reno rally in June and everything. But now that I think about it, I guess I always knew what she was — she was honestly pretty racy for even my comfort levels, flirting with and leading on a string of bikers whose numbers she collected, but never had any intention of seriously dating; I genuinely feel sorry for some of the saps! What it boils down to is, Blondie is a true opportunist. If you have something she wants, she’ll be your friend…otherwise, forget it.

IMG 20150605 235050 300x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Me and Muffin Top, in happier days

But incidentally, I do have a lot of incriminating dirt on Blondie, which if I was a woman of lesser scruples I would put on blast all over the internet. For one thing, she secretly works as a nude and fetish model, same as me….she just doesn’t want anyone to know, so she keeps it secret (incidentally, the guy she went to Sturgis with is someone she met at a foot fetish party, who regularly pays to suck her toes). The videos and photos she’s posed for are out there on various websites, and I could easily share them on social media…but I won’t, because why bother? She’s a dumbass, and I’m done with her. Realistically, I guess I’m done with hustling bikers anyway….I mean, after that disaster in Virginia City, how could I keep on without it being pathetic? The answer: I could not!

20150801 191757 300x169 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!

Back in the desert

So…..having been dumped by Blondie, my vacation over, my brakes all wonky and my spirits low, I headed back down to Vegas. I came home to a broken garage door and a busted modem, and when I went to get my oil changed it was almost $500 because of all the driving I’ve been doing — I needed a new battery, and all my fluids needed flushing. So I shelled out a shit-ton of money for all that, but now that I’m not working Sturgis, times are tight. I managed to book a few gigs later in the month, before Burning Man…but until then, I’m on a strict budget.

Thankfully, my friend Dr. Kildare sprang to the rescue, and invited to meet him in Colorado for a few days of camping out in the desert east of the Rockies. Apparently there are some hot springs out there, and even better than that…..there is LEGAL MARIJUANA!!!!!!! I fly out in the morning…..and I can’t wait to get baked out of my gourd.

Screen Shot 2015 07 31 at 10.27.46 AM 230x300 Wanderhussy: Oregon/Idaho/Northern Nevada Edition!So, my summer vacation may be mostly over….but I have a few tricks up my sleeve before the party ends: after Colorado there’s Burning Man, and then after that I was invited to take part in an all-female art show at the Life Is Beautiful festival, with my Electric Vagina. I’ll be busy enough to distract myself from my innate melancholia, and I’ll be just fiiiiiine……

…until Daylight Savings ends!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 14 Comments

Listening

Sara Jane Cowgirl DX Las Vegas 2015 9242 300x240 Listening

Cowgirl in the Sand
by Dead Clown Studios

A couple months ago, a quasi-photographer acquaintance invited me down to St. Kitts, all expenses paid, to keep him company while he decompressed from the shitty year he’s been having — an arrest, business upheaval, a divorce. He needed to be around someone fun, he said…so he thought of me.

Now, I’m no idiot…but I’ve been on many trips with many random dudes, and I know from experience that they’re not all trying to get in your pants — some guys sincerely just want company. But I had a feeling the recent divorce might make this particular guy a little frisky, and I’m not attracted to him that way…so I polled my 4,000 Facebook friends to see what they thought.

The consensus was pretty much DON’T GO, HE JUST WANTS PUSSY! Basically, people seemed to doubt that my company could be enjoyable enough without my also putting out…so I took their advice, and turned down the trip. But I’ve been thinking about it ever since…and actually, I have my doubts.

ass 200x300 Listening

My ass *does* come in handy…but there’s more to me, I tells ya

As mentioned, I’ve been on many trips with many random dudes — sometimes a reader of this blog will invite me somewhere, as when I went to Saline Valley with Dr. Kildare, or to that Jimmy Buffett show with my Florida friend. Sometimes it’s people I know from real life, like when Dr. Who invited me out to his palatial estate in Hawaii, or the many trips I’ve taken with my friend J.R. I seriously doubt any of these guys thought I was exceptionally loose (or a prostitute) — I sincerely think they just enjoyed my personality and sparkling wit, and wanted to spend time with me. Shocking, I know!

Either way, believe it or not…my vagina, mouth and anus are hardly my most sought-after orifices. That honor belongs to my ear canals — a little known fact is that I am a great listener, who will give you my undivided attention with both eyes on your face and both ears and my brain actively engaged in what you are saying. I ask the occasional question here and there to get you started and let you know I’m paying attention (like when I’m playing Terry Gross, as with those bikers in Reno)…but for the most part, I’m really good at just letting others talk. And in my experience, having someone listen to you is even more valuable than having someone suck your dick. Why do you think therapists are paid as much as or more than many hookers?

IMG 1072 edited 200x300 Listening

From that shoot I did when I got back from Reno the other week…by Kenji K

An interesting example of this was a couple months ago, when I booked a shoot with an older photographer with whom I’d shot here and there over the past few years — a super nice man with whom I’d hit it off right from the start. He’s been having a rough time lately — his wife of 50 years just died of cancer, and his own health has been giving him problems. I’d been emailing him every now and then to check on him, but we hadn’t actually seen each other in a couple years. But now, he was finally feeling up to a shoot, so he traveled out to Vegas and booked me for a morning.

The night before, he invited me to dinner at the steakhouse at the hotel where he was staying, so of course I accepted, and met him over there around 7pm. He looked well, but was having a hard time with the relatively high altitude of Vegas, so he had to carry a portable oxygen concentrator with him and closely monitor his blood oxygen level…which you could tell really embarrassed him. Because of his breathing difficulties (he was wheezing pretty badly), he expressed doubt in his ability to go through with the shoot the following morning, and offered to just pay me a cancellation fee. Not wanting to be a downer, I offered to come by in the morning either way, ready to shoot…and if he wasn’t up to it, we could just have coffee and chat, instead.

Anyway, we enjoyed a fantastic steak dinner and a long, rambling conversation. It started out with him asking me about my latest adventures — he said he wanted to hear about everything I’d been up to lately. But after a 5-minute update, the conversation swung around to him and his life experiences…and he spent the next four hours telling me everything about his experiences growing up in upstate New York, going to college, meeting his beautiful and intelligent wife (who was one of the first female programmers for IBM), and then becoming a Navy officer and shipping out to Vietnam. It was fascinating! In the Navy, they were based on a ship in the Mekong River, where their drinking water supply was river water — filtered to an extent, but so full of Agent Orange runoff and silt that they had to mix it with Kool-Aid to even choke it down. No wonder this guy’s health was so bad!!!

DSC 2236 Mod T copy 220x300 Listening

Random filler shot by Tony Oz

After the war, he returned to California and bought a yacht with his beloved wife, and they spent all their free time sailing up and down the coast — they never had kids, so they had plenty of free time and money, and things were just wonderful until his wife went through menopause and lost interest in sex, at which time he found an Asian mistress who he’s supported for the last 15 years, with his wife’s implicit consent (“as long as you don’t embarrass me, or bring anything home”). Now that his wife passed away, he was free to invite his mistress out to Vegas with him, and in fact she was due to arrive by bus right after our shoot — some kind of gamblers’ express that runs from Chinatown in L.A. to Chinatown in Vegas every day, twice a day, for $35 roundtrip (I guess she doesn’t like to fly).

Anyway, I listened to his life story until late into the evening, and around 11pm I was starting to get kinda apprehensive, because if I was to be ready for a photo shoot at 9am, I needed to get home and get my beauty sleep! But I didn’t want to be rude, so it was around midnight by the time I finally got home to bed.

11658905 10206107135650369 1004033532 o 200x300 Listening

Earlier this week………

That would have been fine, except I was awoken around 1am with the most horrendous menstrual cramps — every once in awhile I get really bad cramps, like the ones that landed me in the emergency room in Tahoe with an ultrasound wand up my twat; the pain is ridiculous, as I imagine childbirth must feel, only instead of having a baby I just end up writhing around voiding foul substances from multiple orifices for about an hour, before the pain finally subsides and I am left sweating and exhausted, like a limp rag that has been violently wrung out. Sorry if that grosses you out, but that’s my life! (I just hope it doesn’t happen to me at Burning Man — going through all that in a Port-a-Potty would be a fucking nightmare!!!)

Anyway, by the time I finally crawled back into my bed it was around 2am, and I was completely exhausted — but I still got up at 7 and got ready for my possible photo shoot. Even though I was pretty sure the poor guy wasn’t going to be up to it (he could hardly even walk across the restaurant the night before, without running short of breath), I still brought my A-game and showed up at his room at 9am, bright and fresh and ready to shoot. Because I’m a pro!!

11024693 1104108902950100 6642255406516093427 n 300x165 Listening

At the beauty tradeshow in Vegas

Of course, he ended up not feeling up to shooting, so instead I just sat in his room with him and listened to more of his stories for another 3 hours or so; now he wanted to know if I knew of any escorts who might be willing to have a three-way with his mistress and him at some point — obviously not in Vegas, since he could hardly breathe there as it was, but possibly in L.A. at some point. That’s men for ya — they can hardly fuckin’ breathe, but they’re planning ménages à trois! I guess it was a lifelong fantasy of his that he wanted to fulfill before it was too late…so I told him I would discreetly ask around. (He did not ask if I was interested; he knows me better than that.)

Sara Jane Cowgirl DX Las Vegas 2015 9191 300x200 Listening

More from the desert with Dead Clown Studios

Anyway, at the end of it all, as his mistress’s bus was just pulling into town, he generously wrote me a check as a cancellation fee, which I stuffed into my bra and headed home before finally looking at it: $1,000!! Holy shit!!! I mean, our photo shoot was supposed to have been around 3-4 hours, for which I usually charge about $300. But we didn’t even shoot!! I just sat there listening to him for around 7 hours total…which comes out to around $142/hour. (Plus I got a free steak dinner…although I ended up puking it all up during my episode anyway frownie Listening )

To be fair, he may have intended to write me that check all along — whether I had sat there listening to him, or not. But I’ll bet he really enjoyed having an ear to bend — as we all do; why do you think I write this fuckin’ blog?!? The fact is, I don’t have someone in my day-to-day life who will sit there and really listen to me — people I talk to are either too busy thinking up ways to get into my pants to really pay attention to what I’m saying, or they’re too busy telling me their problems to listen to my first-world white girl nonsense. So, I let it alllllllll out online — kinda like my menstrual episodes. Basically, this blog is just one more orifice from which to void foul substances.

fb 225x300 Listening

J.R. and I in Nashville

Anyway, over the years, no one has filled my ears more than my long-time friend J.R., mentioned above. I haven’t written about J.R. lately, so here’s a quick recap: I befriended this lonely Tennessee oilman several years ago when I worked at Caesars Palace, bonding with him over our love of music, smoking weed, and looking at old photos (mostly me looking at his old photos). When I met him, J.R. was going through a divorce, in the process of which his wealth shrunk considerably…which still bothers him more than it should, as he leads a fantastic lifestyle that many would envy. But anyway, we’ve been friends for years now, and as mentioned I’ve gone on many a trip with him — a Caribbean cruise, a few visits to his place in Florida, Nashville, NYC — and all we really do is sit around getting high and drinking wine while he tells me his life story and all his current problems. Let me tell you, I have learned a lot about the oil industry, NASCAR and smalltown Midwestern life in the 1970s!!!

Anyhow, I hadn’t seen J.R. in a while, but a few weeks ago he invited me to come out to his place in Nashville — he had tickets to the big Rolling Stones concert out there, to which he very generously invited both me and my sister. He had never met my sister before, but I had told her so much about him and vice-versa, that I was sure they would get along famously.

11227941 10204445487313259 8104343682136876900 n 300x300 Listening

My sis, on her cross-country quest

So I flew out to Nashville and arranged to rendez-vous with my sister, who happened to be on a cross-country solo roadtrip at the time. As you may recall, my sis quit her highly-paid-but-loathsome corporate job over a year ago, and has been on a spirit quest ever since — for the last couple of months she’s been driving around the southern USA, sleeping in her car at rest stops and Wal-Mart parking lots, eating beans out of a can and taking in every affordable tourist attraction she can. Trust me — I am so fucking jealous of her adventures, and almost thought of joining her on the whole trip…but I felt I needed to work instead, and make some money for the summer; plus, I think it was good for her to do it on her own. Now she’s even ballsier and badder-ass than ever!!!

11427222 1099540546740269 7580101816500992468 n 300x300 Listening

Honky-tonkin’

So my sis met up with J.R. and I in Nashville, and as expected the three of us got along like a house on fire! We got along so well, in fact, that what was supposed to have been a nice, relaxing vacation week in Tennessee turned out to be a relentless, grueling marathon of pot-smoking, boozing and non-stop honky-tonkin’ — J.R. is very health-conscious and totally fit, but holy son of a bitch can that guy drink!!! Thankfully, he also likes to sleep in late….so most of my time in Nashville was spent high, drunk or asleep — although I did manage to squeeze in a couple of 5-mile runs. Also thankfully, J.R. doesn’t really eat very much food….so at least I didn’t gain any weight while I was out there; we picked up a sack of 20 White Castle sliders one night on our way home from honky-tonkin’, and that bag o’ burgers basically fed my sister and I the entire week.

20150616 001327 e1436245519487 169x300 Listening

I told you I was honky-tonkin’

Anyway, we all had a great time, and even the Rolling Stones concert turned out to be amazing. I’ve never been a huge fan, but they’re legends, and not getting any younger, so I figured I’d better go see what all the fuss is about while I still could. Now I know!!! Mick Jagger in particular was such an energetic, charismatic performer that I could almost understand what all those 5,000 women he’s slept with saw in him — even though he’s 70 years old, he’s still an amazing showman! It didn’t hurt that J.R. had gotten us pretty good seats, in the 17th row, so we had a great view. The only downside was, it was hot and humid as fuck, and we hadn’t brought our vaporizer, so we were basically sober the entire show. Still, it was fantastic!

After the show, we all went back to J.R.’s house, feasted on the last of the White Castle sliders, and passed out cold….and then the next day, I flew back to Vegas and my sis continued on her roadtrip, heading back west toward California, where we were set to rendezvous again for a 4th of July family get-together at my mom’s beautiful cabin in the redwoods — to which we invited J.R. to come visit sometime, since he has expressed interest in meeting my mom, too. He said he might come out next summer, when the NASCAR circuit comes to the Sonoma raceway — so we’ll see! I bet they would get along great — we could all get high and then sit back and listen to the two of them reminisce about the 70s simple smile Listening

11207345 1105413552819635 5410335409232838207 n 300x165 Listening

Having a bloody Mary at the Crowbar in Shoshone, near Death Valley

Anyway, back in Vegas I only had a few gigs to hustle through before I was able to leave for my own summer adventure tour — I fake-pissed on some asshole at a pool party, worked my annual gig at the beauty tradeshow, and shot some more amazing photos out at Death Valley with the guy I’ve been working on that top-secret super-amazing project with. Now that it’s summer, the desert is pleasantly balmy at night (which is when we shoot), so I don’t freeze my ass off standing around naked for long exposures like I did at our shoots earlier in the year. The only bummer this time was, another photographer I know had recently told me about being bitten by a sidewinder out there once, so I was a little freaked out about standing around barefoot in the pitch black desert — especially when the photographer I was shooting with this time casually mentioned that he had just seen a scorpion for the first time ever, while he was setting up, right there where we were shooting!!! Thanks a lot for telling me!!!! I almost shit myself later that night when I saw something ginormous creeping slowly along the desert floor — it turned out to be nothing more than a 6-inch praying mantis, but still!!!!!!!

gwdevotion 225x300 Listening

idk, I thought I could pull it off…as in this photo by GW

After Death Valley, I only had one more gig before I could take off — there was a romance novel convention in town (!!!), and they were auditioning models to pose for the cheesy cover paintings they put on them — you know, Fabio the Pirate/Viking/Cowboy ravishing some pale-skinned wench with tumbling locks of hair? I don’t have a heaving bosom, but I do have fabulous hair and smooth, tattoo-free skin…so I figured I’d at least go in and try my luck before leaving town. The audition was at 10am on Saturday, so I figured I’d pack up my truck and just hit the convention on my way out of town; if I ended up getting cast, I’d head back to Vegas for the shoot…otherwise, I’d just continue on my way.

 

20150627 1008480 300x169 Listening

at the romance novel convention

Holy hell, that audition was so interesting!!!!! First of all, the guy running it is probably the most successful romance-novel-cover model of all time; Fabio was on something like 700 covers, but this guy has been on over 7,000!! Mind you, many (most) of these books are horrible, digital-only tripe that never even gets actually printed, about weird stuff like shape-shifting gay bears (I’m serious)…but still! This model guy figured out a way to make a living off this niche industry, and I’m all for it. He basically hires female models to pose with him for a series of generic, romance-novel type shots, which he then features on a sort of romance-novel stock-cover database, where authors can choose the photo that best suits their book. Fascinating!!!

11659917 10206107138530441 263931155 o 300x200 Listening

Dolled up at Deep Creek

So I got all dolled up and hit the audition, took a few amazing photos of the convention itself, and then hauled ass out of town to begin my fabulous summer adventures. My first stop was Deep Creek hot springs — there’s no cell reception there, so I had to hike way up a hill Saturday evening to get a signal, so I could check my messages and find out if I’d gotten the audition, and would have to head back to Vegas before continuing on.

20150627 182324 300x169 Listening

Drunk and naked on a mountaintop near Deep Creek

Alas, as it happened, the male model running the audition did not find my look marketable enough for his needs, and I did not get called back to town. By the time I found out, though, I was already naked, sunkissed and half drunk, standing on top of a mountain in the middle of the desert…so I wasn’t really too upset about it. And BESIDES — unbeknownst to me, my photo was already on the cover of a romance novel, all along!!!

That’s right, the stock photo strikes again — you may recall that a couple years ago, I made a showgirl costume and posed for a trade shoot with a local photographer who is known to sell his stuff to stock photo sites. Since I had spent $300 making the costume, and he wasn’t even paying me a nominal fee for the shoot, I assumed he wouldn’t take advantage of our friendship and signed a release without really reading it. But to this day, those fucking photos show up everywhere — on banners at the Vegas Convention Center, on a casino in London, on iPhone apps, TV game shows, in magazines…and now, on the cover of a horrible romance novel!!! LOL, check it out:Screen Shot 2015 07 01 at 8.11.03 PM Listening

LMFAO!! Oh well, fuckit…at least I ended up on the cover of a romance novel, one way or the other. The only thing I’m curious about now is the other stock photo model on the cover with me — anyone recognize this guy?!? Maybe it was meant to be: “Two stock photo models end up on the cover of a horrible romance novel; love and laffs ensue!”

11701472 10206107162491040 1486638877 o 200x300 Listening

Horsin’ around at Deep Creek!

Anyway, as mentioned I didn’t waste much time over the whole kerfluffle — I was already ass-deep in my summer adventure tour at Deep Creek, where I had arranged to meet up with a reader of this blog for a couple days of drugs, booze and R&R. Now I know what you’re thinking — I did the same exact thing last summer, with disastrous consequences, so you’re probably thinking I’m a total idiot. But I assure you, this time it was totally awesome — I learned my lesson last year, and was careful to keep the party polite; it also helped that the guy I met up with was much classier. He brought along a horsehead mask for me pose in, and left me with a grab bag of parting gifts including a fur hat, a yard of cowhide and a cymbal. Great guy!!

 

fb 300x200 Listening

Partyin’ with the kids at Deep Creek…note that I’m the only nudist :/

Aside from shooting nudies in the horsehead mask, we set up camp on the beach down by the hot springs, and spent the evening drinking wine and hanging out in the pools with a bunch of barely-legal drunken idiots — it was a weekend, and the weekend crowds out there tend to skew young and fratty…but my friend was unable to meet up on a weekday, so I had no choice. And anyway, it turned out OK — we all got drunk, smoked some weed, sang some songs and ate some cookies. Good, clean wholesome fun — until the sun came up the next morning, and I saw that the bottle of wine that had been passed around the night before was actually a mostly-empty bottle of Fireball whiskey filled with rosé! *SHUDDER!!!* Fireball is gross, but if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s pink fucking wine!!!

11665782 10206107189291710 1798754852 o 300x200 Listening

playing with my glowy balls at Deep Creek

Sitting there that morning looking around at the piles of beer cans and other gross detritus left strewn about, I was honestly feeling a little Deep-Creeked out; its natural beauty can’t be beat, and it’s still one of my favorite hot springs ever…but I was starting to feel like I’d seen enough of it for a few years, and needed to take a break. Still, I was already there, so I figured I might as well make the most of it and hang out til sundown, at which time my friend and I could hike out without sweating to death (the hike back up to the parking area is really steep and long, almost 2 miles). So I went ahead and cracked open my last rum & coke, and headed down to soak in the coolest pool, the one that’s half in the creek. It was pretty hot out, but overcast and weirdly gloomy, so the temperature in that pool was just right.

20150628 115035 300x169 Listening

Rain falling at Deep Creek

I was just laying back on some sandbags for a a nice midmorning snooze, when — BOOM!! This huge, gnarly desert summer thunderstorm rolled in over the mountains from Lake Arrowhead — and transformed the whole experience! I’d been to and appreciated the beauty of Deep Creek in the spring, summer, fall and winter…but I’d never seen it like this. It was amazing!!!!

20150628 120020 e1436246762320 169x300 Listening

Soaking in the rain…

Now, they say to be safe in a thunderstorm, you’re supposed to avoid trees and water — well, down at the creek there’s really nothing but trees and water!! So I fretted over that for a little while, and then I bellyached over my soggy camping gear for awhile…and then I finally snapped out of it and realized I might as well just be in the fuckin’ moment for once and enjoy this bizarre occurrence! Hell, I might as well make like Woodstock, and wallow in the moment…like a pig in shit!! So I stashed my soggy gear under a tree, and hiked my wet, chilly ass up to one of the hotter pools, to sit out the storm in the company of the rest of the rain-drenched fools stuck down there.

OMG, it turned out to be super fun — we all sat in the steaming Anniversary pool, with rain falling all around us, and it was a weird, misty kind of magic. We passed around a bag of grapes, and drank and smoked and counted the seconds between thunder claps and lightning bolts, until finally the storm passed, leaving everything absolutely still, with sparkling drops of rain glittering on every leaf and every blade of grass. Magical, for sure!

After taking a million photos and making a video, I climbed up on a ledge to take a nap while my gear dried off, then woke up and made a cup of instant coffee with the super-hot water that shoots out of a copper pipe at the hot springs source before bidding my fond adieus to the collection of hardcore kooks who’d ridden out the storm and packing all my shit up that ass-kicker of a trail back up to the parking lot. Whew!!

11254087 1108534085840915 9133557725221439493 n 300x165 Listening

Bakersfield

After all that, I was much too exhausted to drive the rest of the 7+ hours up to my mom’s house, so I stopped for the night in Bakersfield and got a room at a cheap motel. I was kinda sour about shelling out cheese for the room, but right after I booked it, I checked my email and saw that a generous reader of this blog had just donated $100 to my tip jar — so it all worked out.

But, talk about a switcheroo — this poor guy reads all the shit I bitch about, and pays me for the privilege! Hmmm…maybe I’m going about this all wrong. Instead of honing my listening skills like a wannabe Terry Gross, I guess I should be working on my qvetching skills…so that more people will pay me for my bitchery, á la David Sedaris!! Could it be that my ears aren’t my most valuable orifices, after all? Maybe my mouth is…

But not in that way, ya pervs!!!

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 10 Comments

Nothing’s Sacred: Meditations on my Taint

This morning I found myself in the unenviable and undeniably bizarre position of squatting over my toilet with a pair of super-sharp hair scissors, snipping perilously close to the delicate flesh of my anus. Why the fuck was I trimming my ass hair, you ask??

I asked myself that same question.

clay2 225x300 Nothings Sacred: Meditations on my Taint

photo credit: C.J.

As an art nude model, I understand and accept the responsibility I’ve assumed to maintain a neat, slim, fit, conventionally attractive appearance. I lift weights, I run, I tan, I diet, I shave, I trim, I moisturize, I hydrate, I cleanse, I floss, I file, I spend 45 minutes prior to a shoot making up my face, and I spend a great deal of time and money caring for and styling my hair.

Apparently, this isn’t enough!

It seems that these days, the definition of “conventionally attractive” has become invasive to the point where it’s no longer enough to trim your bush and shave your bikini line down to a modest landing strip. These days, apparently, photographers want you to shave everything — including your asshole!

Now, keep in mind — I market myself as an art nude model. Not an adult model, not a webcam model, not a porn actress. My bio on Model Mayhem clearly states the types of content I am comfortable with and willing to shoot:

DSC 0769A 199x300 Nothings Sacred: Meditations on my Taint

photo credit: L. Hoth

[My] rates are for art and glamour nudes…NOT erotica. To be clinical, I will shoot anything except for masturbation, implied masturbation, spread-eagle shots and insertion of objects into my ass/twat.

Basically, you can photograph my labia majora all day long…and if you REALLY want to photograph my labia minora and other innards, be advised that my rate for clinical, up-close spread vag shots is $700/hour. So go ahead; bust out your most powerful telephoto lens, jeweler’s loupe, what-the-fuck-EVER, and blast away! I’ve been told I do have a very shapely vagina smile Nothings Sacred: Meditations on my Taint For $700 you too could have 60 wondrous minutes of staring at/photographing it, and I *WILL* donate $100 of that to Planned                                                    Parenthood.

(No photographer has ever, as of yet, taken me up on the Vagina Challenge, preferring instead to cajole and dissemble (“Don’t worry, the way your leg is angled it’s all hidden in shadow.” Yeah, right!)

cam9 300x200 Nothings Sacred: Meditations on my Taint

a modest bush
photo credit: Cam Attree

Partly to cockblock such dissemblance, my practice is to rock a modest bush  — that way, even if a photographer tries to pull one over on me, at least my anus and vagina are somewhat camouflaged. And though most of the photographers I shoot with are respectful of my comfort levels, I still prefer to maintain a bush for reasons of physical comfort and personal aesthetics.

Of course I understand that aesthetics vary, and I’m sure my bush costs me shoots here and there…but guess what? If a photographer insists on it, I am totally willing to shave my pubis, groin and labia! Though I do feel naked and weird when bald, it’s not that big a deal, and I am happy to oblige.

But I draw the line at my taint!!!

Because of my limitations, I see no need to shave any further south than my labia majora. I don’t pose for spread-leg shots anyway, so why should I shave my perineum and anus? If a photographer has read my bio and is truly respecting my comfort levels, any hair that grows below my labia won’t be showing in any of the photos, anyways.

I mean, shit — I’m already naked!! Is there no inch of my body I can keep as my own — not even my asshole?!?!?!?!

Screen Shot 2015 06 25 at 2.53.09 PM 300x226 Nothings Sacred: Meditations on my Taint

photo credit: Photoman027, Diverxity.com

Apparently not. In the last couple of months I’ve had two or three photographers raise the issue of my ass hair. Having just this morning caved to pressure and trimmed it, I can tell you with 100% certainty that said hairs were only .5″ long at most. Had my posing comfort levels been honored, they shouldn’t have even been visible!! Have you seen my ass?!! 1/2 inch of anything should not protrude beyond the curve of my buttocks…unless someone was shooting me from an unflattering and unexpected angle.

In any event, I understand the evolutionary biology behind all of this: a bald pussy is a young pussy. Men want to be sure their potential mate is prepubescent and thus unlikely to have been sullied by other dicks. Some guys also profess this preference for better visibility, or for less interference during cunnilingus.

Or, apparently, anilingus.

But I’m not in the business of anilingus, cunnilingus or for that matter any-fucking-lingus — I’m just trying to be an art model!! 

07 Stairs Nude 078A BW web 300x199 Nothings Sacred: Meditations on my Taint

photo credit: Shutterbug Studio

Has society become so sexually jaded that a traditional, beautiful, tasteful art nude is no longer a turn on?

Is a subtle glimpse of bush (or shaven pubis) no longer enough?

taylormaxwell2 300x198 Nothings Sacred: Meditations on my Taint

photo credit: Taylor Maxwell

 

What happened to less is more?!

 

Does it really take a fully shaven, tweezed, plucked and bleached expanse from navel to anus to turn guys on these days?

 

You tell me…

Posted in Uncategorized | 36 Comments

Crapping Out in Reno

summer tour itinerary 300x224 Crapping Out in RenoThe temperatures in Vegas are creeping into the triple digits, so that means it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge and see some more of this amazing country. It’s time to bake in the sun in the company of cantankerous old hippies at Red Rock nude beach in Marin County…to make camp stove coffee on the tailgate of my truck, overlooking the Pacific Ocean from a foggy Lost Coast bluff…to smoke weed with bearded van-dwelling strangers while soaking naked in the secluded old-growth forest hot spring pools of Oregon. In short — it’s time to live!!!

These adventures and more await me on my 2015 Summer Adventure Tour, tentatively outlined above. After wending my way up the coast through Northern California and across Oregon, I plan to explore the hot springs of southwest Idaho, earn gas money by posing for a photo shoot or two, and then make my way back down through northern Nevada to take care of unfinished business from my February trip, which was cut short due to cold weather. There are still a ton of fabulous hot springs, ghost towns and assorted other attractions up there that I need to check out!

To do all this, I need money — money to pay for trip expenses, but also to cover my nut for all that time I’ll be taking off from hustling. With that in mind, I’ve really been busting my hump lately, socking away cash like a Fundie mom stockpiling cans of powdered chipped beef for the apocalypse.

8 225x300 Crapping Out in Reno

Last fall in Reno

My hump-busting was thrown for a loop, however, when my friend Blondie proposed a trip up to Reno, to hustle for tips at a biker rally like we did last October. I had about $750 worth of gigs lined up that weekend in Vegas, but Blondie wheedled/cajoled/coerced me into gambling on the uncertainty of Reno instead — though it wasn’t a sure thing, there was the distinct possibility that I would make more than $750, plus have a lot of fun in the process. Last October I made a similar gamble and it paid off handsomely — we really cleaned up at the fall Street Vibrations rally, and afterward I concluded that sometimes a bird in the hand is not worth two in the bush. So to speak.

So I decided to let ‘er ride, and once again rolled the dice on Reno. But this time…I totally crapped out! frownie Crapping Out in Reno

This was the spring Street Vibrations rally — they used to only do it in the fall, but decided to try a spring rally as well, since the weather is so nice this time of year…usually. I guess Blondie heard about it from some of her biker fanboys, one or two of whom were exhorting her to come up for it, so she in turn convinced me to cancel all my Vegas gigs and go with her.

11402698 1091669870860670 2173157804674422639 n 300x169 Crapping Out in Reno

Goldfield

I should have known the whole trip would be a bust right from the start; as we rolled thru Goldfield, we stopped to say hi to this nutty Evangelical Christian gold miner/perv who had given my sister and me Chick tracts last February, and while bullshitting with him at his tourist trap jewelry stand, another old perv in a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt showed up and started hitting on us, telling us how he’d just come from “the cathouse near Area 51.” Upon closer inspection he appeared to have a dingleberry in his mustache, so either the whores up there have exceptionally poor hygiene, or the dirty motherfucker was lying and had really been eating trucker ass at a Flying J. Either way, we took a couple more Chick tracts and got the fuck out of there.

11403251 1091786380849019 5387466442704275754 n 300x169 Crapping Out in Reno

the town was deserted

Anyway, we rolled into Reno Wednesday night to find a completely deserted, freezing-cold ghost town, with nothing but drizzling rain and a few stray methheads awaiting us on Virginia Street. Supposedly the rally went from Thursday-Sunday, but Blondie had talked me into going up a day early, on Wednesday, so that we would be relaxed, refreshed and ready to hustle once the bikers started rolling in — one of her photographer friends had gotten us a free hotel room right on Virginia Street (the main drag), so we could spend the extra day laying at the pool or something, working on our tans. HA!!!

Not only was the weather shitty and rainy, but someone had given us faulty intel — the rally didn’t even start til Friday, and attendance was expected to be a fraction of the fall numbers. I turned down $750 worth of work for this?!? I had even tried to hedge our bets by applying for a $27/hour promo modeling gig in Reno, but Blondie wouldn’t let me — she insisted we’d make more money just hustling. So now I was pretty pissed.

But since we were already there, we decided to make the most of it, and spent Thursday sleeping in and working out at the hotel gym. One of Blondie’s biker fanboys showed up that evening with a buddy in tow, and the four of us ended up spending the evening together like we were on some fucked-up super-awkward double date straight out of Grease (trust me, I’m certainly no Sandra Dee…but compared to the guy they stuck me with, I’m Pat fucking Nixon!!!!!!).

fb7 300x169 Crapping Out in Reno

Aw gee, we’re like the Archies!

The evening dragged on from one bar to another as the one guy, we’ll call him Justin, mooned over Blondie like a lovesick puppy. Meanwhile, he had overindulged to the point of vomiting all over the bathtub the night before, so he was hungover and subdued and not the most exciting company…but still resolute in his efforts to work his way into Blondie’s pants and/or heart. Rather than just sit there and watch that shitshow, I turned my attention to the other guy, who we’ll call JJ…who was actually pretty cute, in a vo-tech-dropout kind of way.

Sometimes when I’m bored, I entertain myself by playing Terry Gross, probing the psyche and personal backstory of whatever unlucky sap happens to be with me. In this case, I had plenty to work with: “What makes your sister a whore?” “Why don’t you visit your son more often?” “Why don’t you talk to your dad?”

Poor JJ went along with it (“Well, ever since I ran his patrol car into a ditch…”), but mostly as a diversionary tactic to distract me from his own sly probing — into my pants!! I had on those cheesy stripper chaps I always wear to biker rallies, and before I knew it his callused palm had wormed its way onto the bare part of my inner thigh: “I kin feel yer puss!”

fb4 300x169 Crapping Out in Reno

Biker double date

Excuse me?!?!”

I said yer pulse!”

His oddly endearing leering continued, even after I shifted my position so that he had to remove his hand, which he now measured up against mine — which was, of course, much daintier. “Is all of ya that little???!”

“Yeah…especially my tits. This is alllllll padding.” I poked my triple-padded bra for effect…but what I really should have said was, “All of me except for my pussy! That’s shit’s baggy as fuck!!!” I really enjoyed cockblocking this poor motherfucker, especially when I asked to see a picture of his son and he had to scroll through about 500 ultrasound photos of different babies to find it on his phone. Come to find out, the disingenuous rascal actually had eight kids by two different women…non-sequentially!!!!! And he was only 29!!!

Oy, vey. I certainly didn’t travel 500 miles to be groped by leather-clad Neanderthals (well OK, I did, but only if they were putting money in my ass crack), and I wasn’t making any money sitting there with Chester the Molester. At least Blondie was able to broker a deal with the manager of the bar whereby we got free unlimited Bahama Mamas in exchange for a few of the shitty, dried-out old cigars she was trying to hawk…so at least I got a nice sugary buzz on for free. And then it turned out to be bar trivia night — with the grand prize being a $40 dinner voucher!

fb8 169x300 Crapping Out in Reno

with Forrest, the adorably wholesome bar trivia host

“If I’m not making any money tonight, at least we have to win bar trivia!” I insisted, strong-arming the rest of my posse into joining me, ill-advisedly letting JJ pick our team name — Your Mama (um…which one?). This wholesome cruise-director-type Mormon kid named Forrest was running the trivia night, and he eyed the four of us skeptically: two idiot ho-bags with their asses hanging out and two leather-bound troglodytes halfway up their birth canals — let’s just say we weren’t likely to be mistaken for the Cal Tech physics department.

But you know what they say — you can’t judge a biker by his colors! JJ, it must be admitted, mostly sat there drinking beer and plotting new ways to grope me, but Justin turned out to be a real fount of useless information — and, come to find out, a genuinely cool, super smart, well-spoken guy! Once his hangover wore off and he was able to utter polysyllabic words, I came to really like him, and saw him in a totally new light. D’oh!!! I can be a real Judgey Jane sometimes. Even Blondie came through on a couple of the questions — it was a real team effort.

And guess what? Team Your Mama emerged victorious, beating the towering intellects of a roomful of drunken Reno tourists (there I go again) and walking away with a big, fat $40 gift certificate which we promptly took to the coffee shop for a celebratory feast. All in all, what started as a miserably awkward night turned out to be a lot of good, clean(ish) fun — pub quiz with bikers! Who knew?!

fb9 169x300 Crapping Out in Reno

Hustling

Anyhoo, the next day was Friday — time to get our hustle on. This rally might not be all we expected, but we were hell-bent and determined to squeeze every dollar we could out of the few assholes that were there!!! The weather had cleared up, and for a minute I thought things were really going to turn around — I ran five miles along the picturesque Truckee River trail in the morning, and just like last summer I was taken aback with how nice Reno is. It gets a bum rap, but I’m here to tell you that it’s a pretty cool city. There were all kinds of hipsters out and about on the trail, walking dogs and riding bikes, playing with pitbull rescues and practicing slack rope on the grass; it was a pretty cool scene. So after showering and suiting up in our chaps and whatnot, Blondie and I took our newfound optimism down to Virginia Street, to finally start raking it in.

Alas…..the best-laid plans of underdressed idiots are often fucked up, in this case by the management of the Street Vibrations rally; last time we had somehow been allowed to fly under the radar and “give away” cigars and stuff for “donations” (i.e. basically sell them without a permit or license) off this tray Blondie carried around with her…but this time, management put the kibosh on our operation right away. Oh, well — we still had our chaps, riding crops and asscracks; we’d just work the whips-for-tips angle.

IMG 20150605 235050 300x300 Crapping Out in Reno

one dollar at a time

But it was sloooooow going, let me tell you. Attendance was poor, the crowd was cheap, and we really had to degrade ourselves just to make a few bucks — it was straight-up pathetic. I was really questioning my life decisions, ya know? I mean, it’s one thing when generous bikers are stuffing 20s in your ass….but another when you’re having to wheedle dollars from dumbasses.

Snapchat 6425424795634323850 300x169 Crapping Out in Reno

With New York

We soldiered on through the afternoon, but it got so bad that we ended up taking an extended break at the Circus Circus sports book, where we befriended an alcoholic street hustler named New York who had a bunch of drink vouchers he was more than happy to share with us. But wait, there’s more! As we sat there drowning our misery, this old perv we’d chatted with earlier came up and sat down beside us: “So…how much does company go for in Reno these days??”

OMFG, he seriously thought we were prostitutes — and to be fair, I really can’t

fb6 225x300 Crapping Out in Reno

Gee, I don’t know WHY he thought we were prostitutes

blame him, dressed as we were. We set him straight and sat there chatting with him for quite a while — he was a nice, older professional-type from Sugarland, Texas who had been on a cross-country motorcycle ride with his buddy, until his buddy ate it on a highway near Bakersfield and ended up in the ICU with a busted spleen. The guy left him there and continued on the ride anyway, and despite being allegedly shaken to the core by the accident, had apparently recovered enough to hit on two prostitutes at the Circus Circus sports book less than 24 hours later. Men!!

Then it turned out he was also an amateur photographer and fellow Model Mayhem member! Ever hopeful of salvaging this miserable trip and making a few bucks, we told him that though he couldn’t hire us for sex, we were models and he could hire us for a photo shoot! His response slayed me: “Oh, I don’t think my wife would like that!” But…she’d be okay with you hiring prostitutes?!?!

Snapchat 5411002728552133856 169x300 Crapping Out in Reno

heading up to Virginia City

After that little encounter we decided we’d better pack it in and hit the sack early, since tomorrow was Saturday — the main day of the rally and our last chance to stack any real cheese. We planned to get up early, put on saloon girl costumes and head up to Virginia City, this old-timey little tourist town in the hills where all the bikers go on Saturday afternoon. We figured we’d sell a bunch of cigars up there (since they wouldn’t let us do it in Reno), then come back down to Virginia Street in our chaps in the evening. We were hell bent and determined to make money — but at this point I needed to make around $600 to break even, so I wasn’t too optimistic.

To make matters worse, of course Saturday started with a visit from my Aunt Flo, and I felt and looked like nothing so much as a big, fat Zeppelin in a corset, fishnets and garter belt — not exactly the look I was going for, but there was nothing to do but sack the fuck up, shove in a tampon and get to work.

IMG 20150606 152721 300x300 Crapping Out in Reno

Really??

We drove up to Virginia City and finished getting dressed in the parking lot of some old-time church, the bells tolling ominously in the background as we laced our boots and adjusted our stockings, mocking us as we minced our way up a cobblestoned hill to the main drag. We stumbled along the old-timey wooden plank sidewalk, posing for a few photos here and there but mostly being glared at by an astonishing profusion of non-biker retiree couples and families, until finally Death came tapping on our shoulder again — this time in the form of the Sheriff of Storey County, who kindly but firmly told us we had to leave.

Snapchat 6235208666465818679 169x300 Crapping Out in Reno

…and STAY out!!

That’s right — we were literally run out of town by the Sheriff, LOL. As miserable as it was, I had to laugh; I mean, what the fuck next on this trainwreck of a trip?! The Sheriff was actually pretty nice about running us off, and in fact blushed profusely while doing so, but he wouldn’t even let us stash the cigar tray in the truck and just pose for photos — which I’m pretty sure is a violation of First Amendment rights, but I didn’t know enough about busking law to really argue with him about it. I mean, I’m pretty sure the sidewalks of Virginia City are public property…but then they are those old-time board sidewalks, so maybe that doesn’t count…and also, they do have their own costumed characters walking around in old-time dress posing for photos for free, so I guess we were making them look bad. In any event, Sheriff Guthrie wouldn’t even let me take a photo of him running us out of town frownie Crapping Out in Reno What an unmitigated fucking disaster this trip was turning out to be.

fb5 225x300 Crapping Out in Reno

at Circus Circus

So we slunk out of town with our fishnets and feather boas tucked between our legs, and drove back down the mountain in the rain, figuring we might as well try our saloon-girl shtick down on Virginia Street, since we were all tarted up anyway. But it just wasn’t the same without those asscrack tip jars, and we didn’t make much.

But we did have some fun — first we met this really cool paralyzed biker who had a built a specially customized sidecar on his bike that served as a platform for his wheelchair by day, and turned into a stripper pole by night — so we had some fun posing for photos with that. Then we ran into good ol’ Justin and JJ again. Poor JJ was bent over doing something to a bike, and since I had just found out

fb3 300x298 Crapping Out in Reno

stripperbike!

about him having eight kids by two women, I ran up and started whaling on his ass with my riding crop, berating him semi-jokingly for being a deadbeat dad. But unbeknownst to me, his own estranged dad had actually come down to see him, and was standing nearby…so I probably totally fucked up their fragile reconciliation process. And even worse, his dad happened to be Sheriff of a neighboring county — and probably could have put in a word with Sheriff Guthrie up in Virginia City, if it hadn’t been for me and my big mouth. D’OH!! Lesson learned: sometimes it’s best to let deadbeats be deadbeats!

Speaking of JJ, I thought of him again later that evening, when Blondie and I were standing in one of the casinos taking shelter from the rain and trying to count our money…and she noticed blood all over my inner thighs, right where my chaps cut away to reveal the skin. I guess my period was so heavy it had soaked my tampon string like a paintbrush, and I was making impressionist art without even knowing it…all while standing obliviously in the middle of a crowded casino where everyone could witness the sorry-ass pathetic mess of my life!!!! I swear, every time I thought this trip couldn’t get any worse…it upped the ante.

I had no choice but to have a sense of humor about it, though — and thought that if only my Aunt Flo had shown up a couple days earlier, when JJ was groping me down there, he would have been in for a real treat!!!! But then again, this is a man who says he likes having his dick bit (?!?)…so who the hell knows; it may have just fired him up even more, and JJ Jr. IX would be nestled in my womb as we speak.

fb11 225x300 Crapping Out in Reno

Earlier that day

Anyhoo, after that little debacle I was finally ready to throw in the towel…but we made one more round inside the El Dorado casino, where we ran into our alcoholic street pal New York, and one of his video poker buddies ended up buying up all the Night Bullet Blondie had on her tray (they said she couldn’t sell stuff at the rally, so she decided to try her luck inside the casinos, instead). See, the idea was to sell cigars to the bikers, but alas I’d been sick during last month’s tobacco convention in Vegas, and hadn’t been able to go collect free samples…so our inventory was low, and we didn’t have many actual cigars on the tray; it was mostly piled up with other crap like Swisher Sweets, Advil samples, keychains, promotional koozies and the aforementioned Night Bullet — a sort of over-the-counter, poor man’s Viagra sold in convenience stores in little yellow packets featuring a photo of a woman moaning in ecstasy under the legend “Don’t pull it…without NIGHT BULLET.” LOL!! All weekend long no one had wanted to buy the stuff, as bikers are hyper-masculine and they all claimed not to need it….but this guy at the El Dorado knew a deal when he saw it, and took all our stock for $20. Score!

20150606 142806 300x169 Crapping Out in Reno

Busted again…

Out of desperation, Blondie devised a new tactic: let guys pick any four items from the tray, plus get a spanking from me, all for a $20 donation…and at first it looked like it might actually work, until the manager of the El Dorado came over and kicked us out: “You girls better take your show somewhere else!”  D’oh, busted again — at this rate, I’d be kicked out of every place in northern Nevada!!!

Actually, being reduced to hustling like this was super embarrassing for me; I’m mostly a law-abiding person, and I felt really weird and shitty pissing people off and flaunting their regulations, especially as I had turned down an honest paycheck to do it. And the fact that we had to wheedle, cajole and make up dumb stories (“Our boss is really mean, and he says we have to sell everything on this tray before we can go home”) to make a buck just really didn’t sit well with me. Hmm, I guess I have more dignity than I thought…buried in there somewhere under the cheap fake leather and bloodstains.

fb10 300x225 Crapping Out in Reno

party time

After being kicked out of the El Dorado, that was it — we were officially done. We took the tray of crap across the street to this little biker bar, Shooters, where the owner was actually OK with us hanging out working our shtick, and decided to just fuck it all and have a good time on our last night in Reno. We did have to get up super early the next morning, to drive back to Vegas in time for this photo shoot I had booked at 5:45pm…but, what the hell, you only live once. Might as well have some fun on this trip!!

fb1 169x300 Crapping Out in Reno

outsourcing our job

At Shooters, we made a couple rounds before handing off our tray to this one drunken old biker who said he would go around and sell stuff for us, no problem. I gave him my hat and riding crop, and the boozy motherfucker actually went around hawking koozies and keychains!! So with our work thus subcontracted out, we were able to just relax and party, knocking back a few drinks with this adorable group of hipster bikers from Oakland who Blondie remembered from the fall rally.

OMG, these guys were so cute! After a weekend of dealing with nothing but grizzled, beer-sodden hard-assed pervs, it was fun to keep company with someone closer to my own aesthetic for a change; plus, they were cool as fuck. I guess “hipsters” isn’t the right word for them, but one of them was rocking a man-bun and a lumberjack shirt, and

fb2 225x300 Crapping Out in Reno

hipster biker

another guy had long, curly Christlike locks and had been to the same John Prine concert I attended in Vegas last December. Whatever they were, they were very nice and fun to hang out with, and we stayed out way too late partying with them at the bar. I kept saying I had to go get my beauty sleep for my photo shoot the next day, and the one guy kept saying, “You’ll never remember the nights you got plenty of sleep — but you’ll always remember the nights you stayed out and partied!” NOT the thing to say to someone with FOMO (that’s Fear Of Missing Out, an actual clinical diagnosis of the digital age from which I suffer mightily). 

But finally, around 2am, we bid them adieu and stumbled back to our hotel room. As a parting gift, we gave the hipster bikers those Chick tracts the Evangelical miner in Goldfield had given us, telling them to read ‘em around the campfire the next night, on their way back to Oakland, just like my sister and I had done in February — and they could then throw them into the fire, as we had done. I’m here to tell you that nothing gets a campfire crackling like some Chick tracts!

10659204 1093980867296237 7398340843032996254 n 300x300 Crapping Out in Reno

nap sack

So, the next morning we dragged our asses out of bed, in a world of hurt, and lugged our bags of cigars, koozies, feathers and leathers out to the truck for the long drive back to Vegas. I’d counted my money, and that interminable, exhausting weekend had only netted me around $350 in sweaty, stinky $1s and $5s, which I had rolled up and stuffed into a sanitary napkin disposal bag in my purse. WHAT A BUST!!!! Still, as we headed south through the lonely, barren desert, we had plenty of time to talk about everything we’d been through…and we ended up laughing our asses off. It wasn’t a profitable trip…but I guess, in a really weird, fucked-up way, it was kinda fun.

11427222 1099540546740269 7580101816500992468 n 300x300 Crapping Out in Reno

Here in Nashville

Anyway, I made it back to Vegas just in time to fix my hair and makeup before hauling ass to the photo shoot, after which I came home exhausted, just wanting to sleep for around 70 hours or until I figured out what I want to do with my life, whichever came first. Unfortunately, however, another friend from LA was on her way over to stay with me the next few days while we worked the mascot expo, which was to consume the next three days of my life…plus I had three more photo shoots and a video shoot, all in that same week, so I never did get the chance to catch up on my sleep frownie Crapping Out in Reno And now I’m in Nashville, visiting my good friend J.R., with whom I went out honky-tonkin’ downtown last night until 5am…so it looks like I’ll never get any rest.

Someone, please save me from myself!!!

Posted in Uncategorized | 9 Comments

IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

To every thing, there is a season: a time to weep, a time to laugh; a time to mourn, a time to dance. A time to run around the desert with a blender plugged into your vagina mixing up frozen cocktails…and a time to finance it by standing around a convention center for four days, bored shitless, hawking cheap wedding rings to chintzy jewelers. That’s life!

20150529 092107 300x169 IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

heading into the dreaded jewelry show

Regarding the jewelry trade show — I worked for the same client last year, and it was such an endless, soul-crushingly dull gig that I swore I wouldn’t do it again. But, guess what?? When they called me back about a month ago, I said yes. I guess it’s like childbirth — you forget how bad the pain was after awhile, and next thing you know you’re knocked up again and picking out names.

Why is this tradeshow so odious compared to other shows? The client themselves are OK — I’ve actually become genuinely fond of the crazy Chinese motherfuckers. They’re just doing their thing, grinding out cheap men’s wedding rings in some factory in Hong Kong and selling them to browbeaten rednecks who’ve blown their whole Chick-Fil-A paycheck on their fiancee’s .025 carat diamond solitaire. But the tradeshow itself is another story!

20150530 101226 300x169 IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

closed for Shabbat

I don’t mind working shows so much if I can stay BUSY, but the jewelry show is a bitch because half the exhibits are closed on Saturday so that the Orthodox Jews can observe Shabbat, and that day is slow as fuck. It was especially bad this year, as my main entertainment was this amazing family of Persian Jews across the aisle — I’m telling you, these people need their own reality show; they were ten times

20150601 140751 300x169 IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

At the jewelry show

more interesting than those schmucks on Duck Dynasty! There was the careworn, hunched little matriarch, her two wheeling-and-dealing sons, the Latin American branch of the family and then the super-swarthy, super-hot little Israeli nephew or whatever who hit on every woman who walked by, buyer or not…myself included! Anyway, without them the day really dragged…but I wrestled every second that ticked by and finally, soaked in blood, sweat and existential self-doubt, emerged victorious from the over-air-conditioned fluorescent-lit tenth circle of hell, clutching an $800 check in my gnarled claw. FREE AT LAST…LAISSEZ LES BONS TEMPS ROULEZ!!!

11329863 1085855624775428 3285338758834407375 n 300x300 IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

high times at Forgotten City

The main bon temp was our local Burning Man regional campout, where around 800 hippies, ravers and boozers from Vegas and the surrounding area converged on a water retention basin outside Boulder City for three days of drug-fueled mayhem made possible by Wal Mart and the Halloween Superstore. All these Burning Man events pretty much boil down to the same thing: middle-aged white people in tutus and platform boots armed with spanking paddles and travel mugs full of sugary jungle juice wandering through crowds of glassy-eyed raver kids in furry animal hats jerking arrhythmically to earsplitting waves of 200bpm electronic noise wafting from 50 foot stacks of 5,000-watt speakers. Fun times!

11130260 10204289900995394 7645756945982164282 n 300x169 IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

My vagina charges cell phones

As they say, if you can’t beat ’em, aid and abet ’em…so with that in mind, I decided to step up my game this year and really make a contribution to the party. Normally I just run around in slutty outifts “adding atmosphere,” but there comes a time in a gal’s life when just being atmospheric won’t cut it anymore. So for this event, I decided to create a sort of interactive performance art piece based around the Electric Vagina codpiece I made last year for my short-lived mudwrestling career. I’m not sure why I never thought to wear my Electric Vagina to a Burning Man event before, but I’m here to tell you…it went over great!

11052473 1084413114919679 1688221706140042644 n 300x300 IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

My performance was this: I dressed up in a freaky sort of space-babe ensemble and walked around the festival grounds pushing a stroller covered by a pink baby blanket, from which emerged a cord that was plugged into my Electric Vagina. To drum up ballyhoo, a couple days prior to the event I had posted a photo on Facebook and Instagram: “IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA!! What lies beneath the blankie??! Is it some kind of squalling Space Brat?!?!!!”

Hell, no!! I only use my vagina for good!!! In true P.T. Barnum style, at the event I whipped the baby blanket dramatically aside to reveal it was a blender plugged into my outlet! A blender powered by Kegels, penis envy and feminist angst, with which I mixed up frothy, refreshing Vagina Coladas and Vaginaritas for everyone. COME ONE, COME ALL!!!

1599465 10152766502496193 3259788818567875953 o 169x300 IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

blending

Speaking of feminist angst…just as with the Great Strap-On Experiment of Burning Man 2014, what started as a quasi-feminist statement of empowerment devolved almost immediately into lewd shtick: “Hey Wonderhussy, lemme get some of that pussy juice!” LOLz! Ah, Burning Man…fertile breeding ground for spiritual epiphanies and societal paradigm shifts. They say.

But either way…the fact is, after last year’s tampon string disco ball, I really do have to up the ante at Burning Man this year….so, the Electric Vagina will be coming with me, and you’ll find me serving up icy-cold Vagina Coladas near the Arctica ice stations, afternoons from 3-5. I must warn you though, it gets pretty intense when I’m grinding up the ice with those steely blades — I really put my pelvis into it, squeezing and thrusting and shrieking to the heavens like a woman in the throes of agony/ecstasy. Beware!!

11218623 10204315594717721 7600880933847849683 n 300x169 IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

nighttime

Before Burning Man though, I do need to figure out a way to light up the vagina for nighttime — at the regional campout, my nighttime attire was a gold bodysuit with a ray gun plugged into the Electric Vagina. It made for a pretty bad-ass Barbarella look, especially since I had also spent 3 hours painstakingly crimping my hair ’80s-style…but it would be a really bad-ass look if I could figure out a way to outline the outlet plate, the pin striping and the ray gun cord with some kind of LED lighting! And maybe even a strip of lights running vertically up my bodysuit from crotch to neck! If anyone knows how to do that kind of thing, hit me up…I don’t want to use EL Wire or anything amateurish; I want this to look professional!

11291802 10102992561230171 1296229062 n 169x300 IT CAME FROM THE ELECTRIC VAGINA

enjoy!

Anyway, speaking of Burning Man…..it’ll be here before you know it, so I guess I’d better get back to work. I’m writing this from a hotel room in Reno, to which I have traveled with my friend Blondie with the aim of hustling for tips at the Street Vibrations biker rally. We did it last October and made pretty good money…so hopefully, things go well again, because I need to make some serious coin before Burning Man. All that piña colada mix and rum ain’t cheap…not to mention the mushrooms!!!

Sigh…better go get tarted up. It is once again a time to gather stones together…so that I can cast them all over the fucking place come August 😀

Posted in Uncategorized | 6 Comments

Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

jkdstrat 2 192x300 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

In the shadow of the Stratosphere, by Jim K. Decker

Everyone knows hot babes look best when juxtaposed against rusty shacks, railroad tracks and desert cracks — you learn that shit in Glamour Photography 101. And you can’t browse Vegas portfolios for two seconds without tripping over red rocks, Joshua trees and busted-up airplanes down at the fake ghost town near Nelson; I think it has something to do with the contrast between succulent flesh and a parched, withered landscape. Youth vs. decay…or something like that.

In any event, there’s one more tired and true trope that belongs in every serious fauxteur’s portfolio: graffiti. Every model worth her salt has at least one or two shots humping a cinderblock wall covered in the neon scribblings of some half-witted cholo…it’s practically a requirement to join Model Mayhem! To that end, photographers and models are always asking me where there’s good graffiti in Vegas…so, ever amenable, following are some of my favorite graffiti locations in the area.

07z 300x200 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

Rock-A-Hoola waterpark, by Kelly Garn

Hands down, the best graffiti I have personally ever seen in the area was at the abandoned Rock-A-Hoola waterpark, down near Barstow. It’s a 2-hour-plus drive to get there, but what a goldmine!! Tons of colorfully painted abandoned buildings, all covered in scathing commentary and thought-provoking slogans; I like my graffiti with a message, and this place definitely satisfies, thanks to an NYC-based crew called Trust-O-Corp. Great job, guys!!!

photo credit Kelly Garni 300x200 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

Rock-A-Hoola waterpark, by Kelly Garni

09 McPorn Nude 012A web 300x199 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

Rock-A-Hoola waterpark, by Shutterbug-Studio

 

I shot at this location twice, both times in December 2013, and the results were so fan-fucking-tastic that there’s no way I can post them all here. If interested, you can see many more here, here (if you’re on Facebook), and here (if you’re a Model Mayhem member).

Unfortunately, since I shot there, investors have stepped in with plans to reopen the waterpark…and there’s heavier security on duty these days, making it impractical to sneak in for tasteful Art nudes. And anyway, another artist who goes by Aware. has since come in and covered a lot of the cool, colorful graffiti with shitty black Olde-English lettering…so the place isn’t nearly as amazing as it was before. Nothing gold can stay!

01 Black Panties and Scarf WOM 174 web 300x199 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

Wheel of Misfortune, by Shutterbug-Studio

Speaking of Aware., I can’t hold his crappy work at Rock-A-Hoola against him because he also created one of THE most amazing graffiti pieces I’ve ever seen, anywhere — the Wheel of Misfortune, right outside town near Lake Las Vegas. I just shot there/blogged about it the other week, so I won’t repeat myself too much…but it’s awesome. A giant, 100-foot circular cement holding tank from an abandoned magnesium mine has been repainted to look like the wheel from TV’s Wheel of Fortune game show…but instead of saying things like “LOSE A TURN” and “BANKRUPT,” the stripes all say shit like “LOSE A HOME” and “BANK-OWNED” — a reflection on our recent local housing crisis. Plus, all the dollar values are $000. Awesome!

05 Silver Hotpants Topless 357 web 300x199 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

Wheel of Misfortune, by Shutterbug-Studio

The only shitty thing about shooting here, aside from the myriad “NO TRESPASSING” signs and an abundance of possibly carcinogenic black soot all over everything, is the scale — the Wheel is so huge that it’s tough to get the full scope of it in a photo where you can still make out the model. In my experience, unless you zoom in and just capture bits and pieces, it ends up looking like an adult version of “Where’s Waldo?”

03 Mesh Scarf Nude 028 web 300x199 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

Near the Wheel of Misfortune, by Shutterbug-Studio

 

But if you zoom in, you can get some pretty cool shots that still convey the idea. Moreover, there are other circular basins nearby with tons of other colorful, marginally cool graffiti on the walls and stuff….so the Wheel is not your only option.

 

 

jkdgrafitti2 215x300 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

In the Arts District, by Jim K. Decker

Now, if all this carcinogenic soot and trespassing is too rich for your blood, you can always just be a puss and head down to the Arts District in downtown Las Vegas — the general area around Charleston Blvd. and Main Street has a lot of pretty cool stuff painted on the walls of the various buildings and warehouses in the area. The only bummer with shooting down there is, you’re in full sight of any Looky-Lous or homeless winos who happen by…and sometimes the pedestrian traffic down there can be pretty heavy. So if you or your model are shy, be advised! Also, for that same reason, the graffiti in the Arts District isn’t really ideal for shooting nudes…UNLESS….

 

 

10 Everafter Nude 031 web 300x199 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

Downtown Las Vegas, by Shutterbug-Studio

…your name happens to be Wonderhussy, and your m.o. is IDGAF! In that case, blast away, as I did this past February, when I went cruising around downtown Vegas in a pair of high heels and a satin robe, with which I covered my shame until the photographer was ready to go. BAM! I dropped the robe, he got the shot, I threw the robe back around me and we were in the car, on our way to the next stop, before anyone knew what hit ’em.

05 Graffitti1 Nude 056 web 199x300 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

Downtown Las Vegas, by Shutterbug-Studio

I think it was a weekday afternoon around 4pm when we did these, and we hit about 5 or 6 different locations, both in the Arts District and then further north along Stewart Ave. in Downtown Vegas, where a bunch of super-cool murals were commissioned for the Life Is Beautiful festival last October. We got WAY too many amazing shots to post here, but if interested you can see more here (must be a Model Mayhem member to view).

If you aren’t doing nudes, I don’t think shooting at the LIB murals would be a problem…aside from the aforementioned passing winos and Looky-Lous. Just drive down Stewart Ave. between like 6th and 10th, and take your pick! There’s plenty of street parking, and a 75% likelihood that your car won’t be broken into and your gear stolen. Don’t be a wuss!

vagina dentata 200x300 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

Vagina Dentata! Pic by Flash Adams, body paint by Suzanne Lugano

Finally, if you’re REALLY not a wuss, and don’t mind risking an encounter with a methed-out homeless hooker’s icepick shank…check out one of my other all-time favorite local graffiti spots, located far beneath the Vegas Strip in the network of storm drain tunnels that cris-cross the city below the surface.

These tunnels were built to channel flash flood waters into Lake Mead — many don’t realize that Vegas gets monsoonal thunderstorms in the summertime, when the sky cracks open and massive amounts of water comes pelting down on the sunbaked desert, which is unable to absorb it all quickly enough, creating hazardous flash flooding. Before the tunnels were built, parking garages on the Strip used to flood all the time, and peoples’ cars would bang into each other like floating bumper cars. It was insane!

ian2 200x300 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

In another, less-graffitied storm tunnel, by Iancentric (with Fearra LaCome)

Nowadays, the tunnels channel all that rainwater safely into the various area washes, where it eventually flows down into Lake Mead. But on the 360 days a year when it’s not pouring rain, these tunnels have become a permanent shelter for a vast underground population of homeless people seeking cover from the blazing desert sun. A guy I know explored the tunnels extensively, and wrote a book about his experiences interviewing all the various kooks who live down there — check it out! It’s really interesting.

As far as a photo location, these tunnels are somewhat challenging. Aside from the icepick-wielding meth-heads, it’s also SUPER dark down there, requiring lights and other expensive gear that might potentially be appropriated by said meth-heads. The tunnels can also be kinda stinky, and are said to be home to giant cockroaches, crawdads, rats and other subterranean sewer-dwellers. But if you can get past all that, they’re an awesome place to shoot, with some pretty killer graffiti!

ian3 300x200 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

All kinds of nasty sewer-dwellers in these tunnels! Pic by Iancentric, with Fearra LaCome

I only shot down there once, a few years ago in the dead of winter — so there were no cockroaches or crawdads, just bitter, bone-chilling cold. Even worse, we shot at night, to better avoid detection when we entered the tunnels by way of a wash near the Rio Hotel…so it was extra cold. And even worse, I couldn’t even really wear a robe or sweater or anything, because I had been bodypainted to look like a crazed post-apocalyptic sewer dweller with monsters on my nipples and teeth on my vagina (this was the only time anyone’s ever bodypainted my labia and clitoris…kudos to you, Suzanne Lugano).

06 Grimm Reaper Nude 039 web 199x300 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

More Arts District graffiti, by Shutterbug Studio

To his credit, the photographer did what he could to make the experience more pleasant for me — he brought along a wagon full of lights, a propane heater and even a boombox so we could listen to music while we shot. He also brought along a second shooter, who, along with the bodypainter, sort of stood guard to make sure no crazy people came up on us from either direction. We must have resembled some kind of far-out Dungeons & Dragons/Goonies adventure party as we set out with our wagon full of gear, the photographer leading the way with a propane lantern, taking us ever deeper into the tunnel until we reached the spot he had scouted out the day before. All in all, we probably trekked about 1/4 mile into the tunnel — where it was pitch fucking black in either direction. Not for the claustrophobic!!

Anyway, the shoot proceeded without incident, and we ended up getting a killer photo out of it, so it was definitely worthwhile. But even if we hadn’t gotten any good photos, I would still have enjoyed the shit out of it…because talk about an adventure! People don’t realize it, but I’m actually only 25% model, 75% adventuress. In my book, half the time the journey IS the destination….ya know? So if you ever want to hit up any of these (or other, as-yet-undiscovered locations)……

P1130707 300x225 Graffiti and the Storm Tunnels of Vegas

Have truck, will model!

YOU KNOW WHO TO CALL!

😀

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Comments

Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

Out of all the wacky gigs I do to pay the bills, one of my hands-down favorites is working for my friend’s concierge pranking service, as a planted actor. This company specializes in fucking with people in a spectacularly theatrical fashion: want some random wacko to throw a pie in your buddy’s face? What about a case of mistaken identity involving a transvestite hooker and an alcoholic circus clown? Hiring this service to prank your friends ensures that your Vegas vacation will end up being something truly memorable…instead of just another vodka-, cologne- and puke-soaked fist-pump-a-thon.

Snapchat 2918712545385466930 169x300 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

Prepping for a piss prank

I know this sounds like a paid ad, but it’s really true: I freaking love this company’s concept, and I love working for them as a planted actor. Call me bitter, but there is something so satisfying about fucking with the self-absorbed nouveau-riche douchebags who frequent Vegas. I can’t get enough!!

I hadn’t participated in any pranks in quite a while, due to scheduling conflicts…but last week, I had the pleasure of taking part in two of them! The first was one of the most popular packages: the classic and universally beloved piss prank, in which a flirty actress shows up, gets drunk, and “pisses” on the prankee (of course, it’s not real pee…just water trickling through an elaborately rigged apparatus). Sometimes it’s a Vegas showgirl who does the pissing, and sometimes a stereotypical bottle-rat nightclub party girl.

2015051795134814 300x169 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

Blondie at work, disarming the victim

In this instance, the client was a group of well-heeled East Asian lads from London, in town for a bachelor party….and the pissing was to take place poolside, in their cabana at one of the dayclubs. I happened to be available, so me and my friend Blondie headed over to WOW Beach (not its real name) to execute the prank.

 

Snapchat 4844920284666101430 169x300 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

pissing on a bachelor

Of course, the pissee in this instance was the bachelor — his buddies had set it all up without his knowledge, and every single guy in the group of 10 was in on it except for him. So my job was fairly easy — just show up in an intricately rigged bikini, play drunk and stupid, ingratiate myself with the group, get invited into their cabana, have a couple drinks, get friendly with the bachelor, straddle him as if I were about to demonstrate a Genuine Vegas Lap Dance™…. and then let ‘er rip!

BOOM — 500 cc’s of body-temperature water, trickling from my bikini bottom all over his swim trunks. Shock, horror, and laughter ensues….as Blondie and I scuttle away in mock shame, leaving the bachelor dabbing furiously at his soiled board shorts with a napkin as his buddies collapse in hysterics nearby. GOOD TIMES!!!!

Snapchat 5407253795325529676 169x300 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

Ooops…OMG I’m so sorry!!

You really can’t go wrong with the piss prank — it’s a classic for a reason, and as mentioned, there are many different scenarios under which it can be pulled off. But sometimes, a client wants a bit more….as was the case earlier in the week, when I was assigned to play a nefarious hooker.

This was a more intricate prank, involving 6 or 7 actors over the course of two nights (if you have the cash, the service will work with you to plan a more elaborate prank…otherwise, you can choose from their set menu of a la carte pranks). In this scenario, a guy was setting up his ex-college-roommate, who happened to be in town with six or seven other friends for his bachelor party. The whole group was supposed to go to one of those dumb machine-gun ranges…but fortunately, our client had the good sense to spend their budget on this prank, instead. MUCH more fun!!

The first night, it was arranged that our client and his buddy, the unwitting bachelor, would come into a bar at Planet Hollywood…where they would encounter my character, a common Strip hooker sitting at the bar nursing a fake cocktail. Our client was tipped off to what I was wearing, so when they came in, he steered his buddy straight over to where I was seated. We struck up a conversation, I “took a liking” to the client…and after 15 minutes or so, I invited him to come with me to “buy cigarettes.”

IMG 1533 e1432240897150 200x300 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

Something similar to what I wore as my hooker costume

The two of us disappeared for another 15 minutes or so, reappearing with mussed hair and lipstick marks on the client’s neck…as if I had just taken him to my minivan on the roof of the parking garage and had sex with him (really we just went around the corner and sat there bullshitting for 15 minutes….the guy was cool as fuck!). When we came back into the bar, his buddy (the bachelor) was still sitting there waiting for us…and when we reached him, I tapped the client on the arm: “Hey, are you going to the ATM, or what? I need my money….I have another call at the Venetian in 15 minutes.”

“What?” The client played dumb, pretending to assume we had just shared a spontaneous “What-Happens-In-Vegas” freebie tryst. As if!!! After badgering him for the money for a few minutes, I “gave up” and went across the bar to where another actor was planted — an ominous-looking big, bald guy in a pimp suit, and pretended to confer with him, shooting angry glances over at the client and his buddy every now and then.

Finally, I followed my “pimp” back across the room, hanging back as he confronted the client: “Hey, pal. You know how this works. Pay my girl, or my people are gonna get really upset.”

Sarah Jane Late Afternoon Las Vegas NV 2015 8524 200x300 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

Unrelated shot of the legendary Sneakapeekapuss
pic by Dead Clown Studios

Of course the client (who was in on all this, remember) stammers indignantly that he doesn’t owe me anything, that nothing of the sort was discussed. Meanwhile, his buddy (the unwitting bachelor) is looking on, half bemused and half nervous. This guy really fell for the whole shtick — it was awesome!!

Anyway, they keep arguing back and forth until finally the client “chokes up” $100 – way less than the actual cost of doing business with a fine hooker like me. This infuriates my pimp, and he jams the $100 bill back in the client’s pocket, ominously intoning that he has other ways of getting his money back…and then saunters off, me in tow.

This all went down on a Wednesday night — apparently, after we left, the client and his buddy got out of there pretty quick, with the buddy assuming that it wasn’t safe for them to hang out at Planet Hollywood for the remainder of their vacation, because some random pimp had it in for them. LOL! They spent the next couple of days partying at other Vegas hotels, and on Friday were joined by the rest of their posse, for their big blowout night on the town.

After drinking at a bar downtown all evening, the plan was for everyone to come back to the hotel room for a little in-room stripper service before going out to one of the nightclubs. But before the group headed back, the client (who was the only one in the group who was in on the prank) sneaked back to the hotel room ahead of time….where the rest of us were waiting to set up the big finale.

20150515 221446 300x169 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

Who, me?

When his buddies all finally made it back to the room, they were confronted by two ginormous thug-type bouncers, who ushered them in and instructed them to pay attention; that this was a serious situation. At first all they saw was me, in my hooker costume, smoking and looking pissed off on the bed, which was bloodstained and covered in bloody medical tools. Of course, none of them recognized me except for the bachelor, who remembered me from Wednesday night and visibly blanched…especially when my “pimp” came storming out of the bathroom, stabbing his finger into the bachelor’s chest: “You little shit; remember I told you I’d get my money? Well, you have exactly 15 minutes to get your buddy to a hospital. As soon as I leave, you better haul ass!!”

Then, another actor in blood-soaked scrubs comes rushing out of the bathroom, stuffing gear and gauze and a mysterious bloody glob packed in ice into his briefcase: “Let’s get out of here!!” We hurry out of the room, followed by the pimp and the bodyguards…and then the bachelor and his boys enter the bathroom to find their buddy (the client) with his ribcage wrapped in gauze, sitting in a bath tub full of ice. SURPRISE!!!!! By this time, they know it’s a joke….and when, at the client’s urging, they peel back the gauze on his ribs……there’s no wound at all, just a message written in Sharpie: “YOU’VE BEEN PLAYED! LAS VEGAS THE GAME.” LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!!!

After the big reveal, we all went back into the room for a hearty laugh — the bachelor was absolutely delighted, saying he’d figured something was up tonight…but that he had completely believed the Wednesday night story, and had been afraid to go to Planet Hollywood ever since. All in all the prank was a great success, and the guys all agreed that it was much more entertaining than shooting dumbass machine guns. Winning!!!

So, a good time was had by all….although one of the guys in their group, who resembled nothing so much as a red-faced rapist Kennedy cousin, apparently was so drunk/confused that he thought I was an actual prostitute, and kept asking for my number…as if I really turned tricks in a MoBro (that’s mobile brothel, a/k/a minivan on the roof of the parking garage). For reals?!?

20150515 123915 300x169 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

wine tasting in Pahrump

But even worse than the feeling of being mistaken for a hooker was the feeling I got from pretending to be a hooker. Oddly enough, my mom happened to be in town that day with a friend…and earlier that same afternoon, we had all gone out to Pahrump, to taste some wines at the Pahrump Valley Winery, after which we decided to head over to Sheri’s Ranch, one of the legal brothels in the area.

As you may or may not know, prostitution is actually legal in Nevada — but only in counties with populations fewer than 200,000, which means Clark County (wherein lies Vegas) is out. The closest county to have legalized prostitution is Nye County….home to the dusty, nondescript redneck town of Pahrump, about 60 miles northwest of Vegas, just over the county line. So you can bet your sweet bippy that there are a couple of really nice brothels in Pahrump, as close to Vegas as legally allowable.

Of these brothels, one of them — Sheri’s Ranch — has an extraordinarily open policy of allowing any and all looky-Lous onto their premises, where you can enjoy drinks and lunch in the sports bar, and even get a tour of the full facilities from one of the girls, if you want. I’ve had lunch there and taken the tour a few times, and have always enjoyed it and been truly fascinated by the mechanics of the place — it’t a legit business!!! So when my mom’s friend wanted to go check it out, I was all for it.

AlejandroCerdenaPhotography 5084 200x300 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

I’ll have to class up my hooker shtick…
photo by Alejandro Cerdeña

As with my previous visits, we sat at the bar and enjoyed a drink while waiting for the next available working woman to come give us a tour — and when she arrived, she was everything you would not expect a prostitute to be: tall, blonde, truly attractive, flawless complexion, intelligent, well-spoken and polite. In other words…..the exact opposite of my rough caricature of a hooker in Las Vegas: The Game.

She gave us a tour of the facilities: the parlour where the client sits to choose from the lineup, the jacuzzi room, the Budweiser room (Sheri’s is the only brothel in the world with a corporate sponsor), the Fancy Restaurant Room (because of strict STD testing rules, while working, the prostitutes aren’t allowed to leave the premises…so if a client wants to take them to dinner, they do it in this little fake restaurant room, with linen tablecloth and fine china and a sign on the sideboard reading “CONDOMS MANDATORY AT ALL TIMES,” and a pillow on the floor by the man’s chair “for dessert”). It’s far out!

There’s also a gym and a volleyball court and a pool and a rec room, plus a row of dorm rooms where the working girls live and do their business while onsite…and there’s even an S&M dungeon, where particularly naughty clients are taken by the women who are professionally trained Dommes — as was our tour guide (!). I was just getting ready to ask her 1,000 questions about her experiences as a Domme, when the little red light that’s on the ceiling of every room in the building started flashing: “Girls, we have a lineup! All ladies report to the parlor immediately. Girls, we have a lineup!”

AlejandroCerdenaPhotography 5096 200x300 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

To the lineup!!
photo by Alejandro Cerdeña

Now, when those red lights start flashing, every woman on duty at the whorehouse has to drop whatever she’s doing — even if she’s in the shower, washing her hair, as was once the case — and hurry into the parlour for the lineup, when they all parade in front of the customer so he can choose who he likes. So, when the light started flashing in the middle of our tour, that meant the tour was cut short :-/ Our guide had to go. D’oh!!!

Our guide hurried down a hallway to get in line with the other girls, and the madame ushered us out quickly…through the parlour, where a salivating Asian man was sitting on the ornate faux-Victorian sofa, rubbing his hands together in glee (OK, he probably wasn’t…I don’t know, I didn’t want to be rude by staring at him, so I’m not sure what he was doing). And just like that, we were back out in the bright Pahrump sunshine….and back into our car for the trip back to Vegas, where in a few short hours’ time I would be getting dressed up in my hooker costume for part II of the kidney prank.

But as I was getting dressed that night, I felt kinda shitty. My idea of a “hooker outfit” was a short, tight black minidress and thigh-high Pretty Woman boots, with giant hoop earrings, smudged makeup and sky-high teased hair — Central Casting, always good for a laff. I thought back to our tour guide from that afternoon, Olivia — and in a way, it felt like I was disrespecting her.

AlejandroCerdenaPhotography 5111 300x200 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

In flagrante!
Photo by Alejandro Cerdeña

On the tour, we had all been careful to be polite, and not come across as judgy with our questions and preconceived notions about what her life and work were about. I have zero reservations about prostitution — it’s not for me personally, but I feel there is nothing wrong with it as a way of making a living, and in fact I’d argue that prostitution is genuinely necessary for the functioning of our society. Prostitutes fill a basic need — not just for pervs and frustrated men who aren’t getting any, but for paraplegics and shy virgins and those who prefer to skip the expensive complications of a “real” relationship. As I understand it, men have to get their rocks off….and Lord knows don’t want to service most of ’em. So why begrudge a less finicky woman for making a buck? Yet, here I was…playing a hooker for cheap laffs. Hmmm.

The issue did weigh on me, and I did feel like a bit of a hypocrite….but guess what? I still did it, to make a buck…and also because these pranks are just so much freaking fun! How could I let a thing like ethics stand in my way of getting one over on some East Coast frat boys?!?!?! Answer: I couldn’t!

AlejandroCerdenaPhotography 5090 200x300 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

Photo by Alejandro Cerdeña

But interestingly, the quandary isn’t mine alone — my friend who runs the pranking business had a similar revelation a couple months ago. He was walking home shirtless from his CrossFit class, though a semi-seedy section of downtown Vegas, when a woman in an SUV pulled up short to holla at him (my friend cuts a very striking figure, being one of the most hirsute and razor-averse people I’ve ever known, and stands out in any crowd due in equal parts to his fit physique and his coat of rust-colored fur).

After chatting with this woman in the street for 20 minutes or so, he learned that she was a massage therapist…so he invited her up to his high-rise condo to give him a massage. She set up her table and everything in his condo, and proceeded to give him a thoroughly legit massage…but there was still an air of illicitness about the whole thing, which intensified when the woman finished the massage, and crawled up onto the massage table to lay beside him.

Sarah Jane Watermarked 1 200x300 Nobody Comes Here For Enlightenment

Photo by DjwB

Here’s the part where, in the typical Vegas narrative, this woman who picked him up on the street and wormed her way into his high-rise condo would give him a happy ending — right??

Well, imagine my friend’s surprise when, instead of reaching for his junk, the woman instead simply wrapped her arms around him and enveloped him in a long, warm hug. A real happy ending! It was so totally unexpected, so sweet and un-seedy, that it totally threw him for a loop….and made him think about things in a different light.

Like, what if there were a way he could turn his pranks around at the end, so that instead of just laff-fests involving broadly-painted stereotypes of loose women embarrassing themselves by fucking guys in minivans and pissing all over themselves…they somehow turned the tables and ended up oddly touching the victim’s emotions in an unexpected way? What if people came home from Vegas having had a great time with a real happy ending, without having simply debased themselves and/or others in the process?? Wouldn’t that be nice???

Alas, however, after having thought about it for awhile, and having asked me for any ideas I might have….my friend and I both came to the realization that real happy endings aren’t a profitable business model; party bros simply won’t pay for that shit. Nobody comes to Vegas for a revelation; nobody comes here for enlightenment. The only fuzzy thing around these parts is a Navel…and that’s just the way it is.

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 11 Comments

I’m an Artist, Dammit!

Screen Shot 2015 05 13 at 4.58.44 PM 300x298 Im an Artist, Dammit!

pic by Dano

It’s a common misconception around some parts that I am a prostitute. And if you don’t know me, I can kinda understand why you might think that: I rent myself out by the hour, I get naked for cash, and I’ve been in more Vegas hotel rooms than even the most prolific hooker. But what people don’t understand is that I’m an Artist…and I’m just helping guys create Art!

OK, sometimes it’s even hard for me to believe that — as when, checking my email the other day, I was confronted with a closeup of my hairy anus, shot from a devious angle by an overzealous photographer with a hyperactive zoom lens. (For the love of Dog, WHY? If I intended to shoot that type of content, I would at least have the decency to tweeze, shave and/or bleach it!)

SDIM1864 300x200 Im an Artist, Dammit!

It’s all Art, right down to the tampon string inadvertently dangling from my twat
pic by Photo Phantasia

But the truth is, “Art” is subjective…and means different things to different people. It’s not all black-and-white nudes reclining on rocks — sometimes it’s topless Secret Service agents with thigh-high stockings, lace garter belts and no panties. Highbrow, lowbrow, nobrow…who the hell am I to judge? The last thing I want is to come off like Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, whose definition of obscenity was “I know it when I see it.” I’m just a naked ninny with a B.A. from a shitty state university, and I’ll freely admit: I don’t know shit!

ganzfeld 300x200 Im an Artist, Dammit!

James Turell’s Akhob
Photo Credit: Florian Holzherr

But I do know what I like…and I’ve seen some far-out stuff lately! First, a friend tipped me off to this amazing ganzfeld installation by the Artist James Turell that has been quietly lurking on the 4th floor of the Louis Vuitton store in the Crystals shopping mall for the past two years. I had no idea this amazing installation was there, because a) I abhor that pretentious mall and all it stands for, and avoid it like the plague…and b) I can’t even afford to breathe the air in a Louis Vuitton store! But this I had to see, so I called ahead to make an appointment (it’s free, but you have to make an appointment as it’s a 20-minute private viewing experience).

b0d35dd02962da8e11b04a2a0f3c8e9a 300x300 Im an Artist, Dammit!

Looking back toward the entrance to the ganzfeld
Photo courtesy Louis Vuitton

Oh holy hell!! This was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!!! Basically, a ganzfeld is a giant seamless chamber uniformly backlit by colored light, with white noise piped in via hidden speakers…so that when you enter, it’s like stepping into a void, and you lose all sense of up/down/left/right. Pilots sometimes experience the same disorienting effect when flying thru clouds, and in fact you can recreate the effect yourself with some headphones and a ping pong ball cut in half, placed over your eyes while you stare at a bright light.

But why take the poor man’s route when I have this fabulous hi-class version awaiting me right down the street?? I took a deep breath and set foot into the rarefied atmosphere of the Louis Vuitton store, where a series of impeccably groomed saleswomen led me to an elevator that goes up to the secret 4th floor, which was just empty storage before Turell’s exhibit went in. I had to sign a release and put on these weird surgical booties, and then these two young chicks dressed all in white, kinda like sexy Oompa Loompas, led me into this dark, silent chamber, where you climb a set of stairs to enter the ganzfeld (as seen in the first photo).

20150511 173122 300x169 Im an Artist, Dammit!

they don’t allow photography in the Louis Vuitton ganzfeld, so I took this at the tram station, which also has a Turell installation, albeit way less cool

It was amazing!! Ideally, to experience the full effect of the ganzfeld you want to go alone, so there is no one/nothing in your peripheral vision, interrupting the void…and you want to go as far forward toward the front as possible, just short of the six-foot drop at the end. That way, your whole field of perception is filled with uniformly glowing color and humming white noise — far out!! My only complaint was that one of the Oompa Loompas stays in the chamber with you the whole time, watching that you don’t accidentally fall off the six-foot ledge…and I could see her in my peripheral vision the whole time, so it sort of fucked up the void effect; I had to avert my gaze to the right, which meant I could see some of the wall seam and the little alarm where the 6-foot drop is. Stupid liability!!!!!!

20150511 171412 300x169 Im an Artist, Dammit!

also at the tram station installation

Anyway, the full cycle takes 20 minutes, and then you have the option of touring the rest of the art pieces on display in the Louis Vuitton store. These turned out to be located mostly in little private salons where the über-wealthy shop via concierge service, hidden from the main floor and all the hoi polloi. If you weren’t a one-percenter, you’d never get to see this fabulous shit…which is pretty sad, in a way :-/ Still…as elitist and bullshit as it may be, I have to give Louis Vuitton props for making this amazing Art available to the public…even unrefined broke-ass hacks like me. Anyone can call 702-730-3150 and make an appointment to see it!

If, however, the idea of strutting into the Louis Vuitton stores freaks you out/makes you sick/violates your populist principles….don’t worry; I also just discovered some even badder-asser Art out in the desert, that’s also free to experience — all you have to do is gas up your car and ignore a few No Trespassing signs!

20150503 172301 300x169 Im an Artist, Dammit!

old magnesium slurry basin

My friend Tatiana tipped me off to this old abandoned magnesium mine out on the furthest reaches of Henderson, near the bankrupt nouveau-riche enclave of Lake Las Vegas, where there are all these ginormous, circular basins where I guess they used to rinse off the magnesium or whatever. These concrete basins are probably about half a football field in diameter, and most of them are just decaying away in the desert heat, dotted with shitty graffiti and strewn with litter and filth.

20150503 173740 300x169 Im an Artist, Dammit!

the Wheel of Misfortune by Aware.

But this bad-ass graffiti artist who goes by the name Aware. sneaked in one day and painted one of the basins in the way back to look like a giant Wheel of Fortune, like from the TV show! Only, instead of it being a regular Wheel of Fortune wheel with stripes reading “BANKRUPT” and “LOSE A TURN…” this is the Wheel of MISfortune, and the stripes say shit like “BANK OWNED,” “LOSE A HOME,” LOSE A JOB,” and “LOSE ALL HOPE.” Plus, all the dollar values are $000! I guess it’s supposed to be a statement of sorts on the whole housing/economic meltdown….which makes it particularly awesome that it’s located right across the street from broke-ass, poseur-ass Lake Las Vegas. HA!!!!!

20150503 173239 copy 300x169 Im an Artist, Dammit!

LOSE ALL HOPE by Aware.

Anyway, I hiked out here one afternoon with Tatiana to check it out, was completely blown away, and then came back a week later with my friend Shutterbug Studio to make some tasteful Art of my own — a mixed-media masterpiece involving my Ass and my Twat. I sincerely hope the original Artist isn’t offended! (I’m a fan of Aware.’s work for the most part, but come to find out he’s the one who covered up the supercool Trust-O-Corp graffiti in the abandoned waterpark with shitty black Olde English lettering, so I can’t endorse him 100%.)

Screen Shot 2015 05 13 at 8.01.41 PM 300x165 Im an Artist, Dammit!

Google Earth screenshot showing Wheel of Misfortune

Apparently, you can see the Wheel of Misfortune from airplanes coming into Vegas — it would be out the righthand side of the plane, just past Lake Mead and due south of Lake Las Vegas. If you’re flying into town, be on the lookout! But if you want to check it out on foot, in person, be advised: there are NO TRESPASSING signs everywhere, and the place is really gross and dirty, and probably contaminated with all kinds of horrible stuff…..in short, just about as hazardous as venturing into that doucher-ass Louis Vuitton store, so choose your poison!!

Sarah Candid 300x225 Im an Artist, Dammit!

Preparing to make some serious Art at a shoot at Cosmopolitan

Anyway, I’m all for appreciating the Art of others, but to pay the bills I gots to make Art of my own, ya know? Toward that end, I did a third photo shoot with this amazing photographer from the Bay Area out in Tecopa, near Death Valley — this is the same guy I shot with/shroomed with before, but he keeps hiring me because he’s working on an absolutely amazing project, which unfortunately I can’t give you the details of yet, because it really is so amazingly bad ass that he’s waiting to finish the series before releasing it to the public. All I can say is, these are among the coolest and most technically amazing photos for which I’ve ever bared my ass, and I can’t wait to share them with you!

Anyway, we stayed in a cabin at Delight’s Hot Springs resort this time, which has always been my favorite resort out there — I love the charmingly busted-up old cinderblock cabins they rent out, and the vibe is just overall sort of Bonnie-and-Clyde-meets-the-Apocalypse. The cabin we rented on this trip, however, was super busted up — it must have been one of the oldest ones on the property, and it was honestly pretty shitty…so be advised, and stay away from cabin #2!! I still recommend the rest of the property, though.

Our plan for this trip was to shoot two nights in a row, in the wee hours of the morning. The first night, we shot from 3am-5am, then went back and slept all day in the air conditioned cabin. The second day, we intended to shoot from midnight-2am…..but after a delicious lunch at Pastel’s Bistro and some after-dinner mushroom truffles, we got so totally zonked that we ended up pissing away the entire night laying out by the mudhole, staring at the stars and talking commie philosophy with some crazy poet in a bathrobe. FAR OUT!!! We’re actually going back next week to do another session — this photographer had never shot a nude model before, so he was pretty nervous the first couple of shoots, and really only hit his stride the third time…but then was derailed by mushrooms. So next time, I’m not bringing any distractions….it’s gonna be all about Art!!!

Speaking of nude photos, I also did a two-day shoot for this new website, Diverxity.com, that’s sort of an alternative to Model Mayhem…only porn-ier, and viewable by anyone — not just models and photographers (on Model Mayhem, only members can view the nude photos). I guess the idea is, models sign up and post explicit nude photos, and then anyone who wants to can sign up for a membership to view them — you don’t have to be a photographer. Well, I’m pretty square when it comes to shooting erotic/adult-type content (I don’t do it, so please don’t ask), but I’m friends with one of the guys who launched the site…so I agreed to be part of their first-ever group photo shoot, on location in fabulous Las Vegas.

11169764 10153032542238557 7020464754225128667 o 300x225 Im an Artist, Dammit!

Models

This was a really cool idea — six or seven photographers signed up and paid who knows how much for two full days shooting a pool of eight models, one day at a rental house, and the second day out in the desert. Everyone took turns shooting with each photographer, and it was a pretty diverse group of models, as you can see from the photo…so everyone got a variety of shots.

 

Wonderhussy Las Vegas DX 2015 9364 300x200 Im an Artist, Dammit!

Just hanging around
pic by Dead Clown Studios

The house we shot in on the first day was nothing special, just an AirBnB rental squatting in the shadow of the freeway…but the desert locations we visited on the second day were amazing, and provided endless opportunities to create amazing Art. We hit the dry lakebed, a Joshua tree forest, some railroad tracks, a lonely desert road and then this fabulous rocky outcropping that had some kind of WWII memorial in the form of a cross at the top, that provided for a really cool backdrop. All in all it was a really fun day, and it fired me up about finally getting the Goddess Collective going!

10390924 267608896744550 2841925670962149464 n 300x189 Im an Artist, Dammit!

The Goddess Collective

The whole reason we started the Goddess Collective was so that we could arrange group shoots like that — the Collective membership is now up to 6 or 7 high-quality, mostly untattooed, all-natural Art models, and between us we know a shit ton of fantastic locations out here in the desert. All we need is a van and 3-5 photographers, and we could totally help satisfy the Art needs of the entire planet! We need to get on this!!

10712447 874567845922032 5557699191391180635 o 300x188 Im an Artist, Dammit!

Mister Tony ad his Audi

But meanwhile, I have other fish to fry — crazy psychedelic German performance Artist fish!! I was recently approached by a local wacky personality/singer/performance Artist by the name of Mister Tony, who wants me to be a part of his act by driving him around L.A. in a giant psychedelic hearse, while he lays in a Plexiglas coffin in the back, with his EDM tracks blaring from the external sound system, with the goal of attracting the attention of record labels out there. HOW COULD I SAY NO TO THAT?!

Screen Shot 2015 05 14 at 2.07.49 PM 229x300 Im an Artist, Dammit!

The Happy Hearse

Mister Tony’s story is actually really interesting. A few years back he was just another German automotive engineer toiling away at the BMW plant in Spartanburg, South Carolina…but then he got laid off, his dog died and his wife left him, all of which led to a meltdown/epiphany: he wasn’t meant to be an engineer, he was born to dance!!! So he spent his severance pay on a bunch of electric-acid-Kool-Aid-colored pimp suits and a hearse with a $20,000 psychedelic paint job, and moved to Vegas to become a superstar!

I first met him back when I worked at a nightclub — he goes out every single night, making the scene and getting his name and face out there. Back then he gave me a copy of his CD, which is a bunch of EDM-type dance tracks with titles like “Please Mister Tony” and “The Happy Hearse,” and I was totally blown away. It was like Dieter’s Dance Party crossed with Austin Powers and maybe a dash of Kraftwerk — intense!! So when he approached me recently to be a part of his act, you can see why I said yes.

IMG956771 225x300 Im an Artist, Dammit!

Out on the town with Mister Tony

I guess he feels like he’s milked the Vegas market long enough, and now it’s time to move up to the big leagues — i.e. go to L.A. and try to get a record company to finance a music video, which he is certain will go viral a la Gangnam Style, making him famous and wealthy in the process. He offered me an 80-20 split if I go with him as his chauffeur, driving this fuckin’ hearse up and down Sunset Blvd. or whatever…but he also wants me to be part of the act!!

During his darkest hours in South Carolina, when rednecks were beating him up as he tried to perform in the clubs out there, a dark side to his personality emerged, telling him he wasn’t good enough, that he should give up, etc. But rather than give in to this self-doubt, he gave his dark side a name and a character– Evil Tony! Evil Tony can’t stand the fact that Mister Tony goes around spreading happiness and the joy of dance, so he sends his secret weapon, Wonderhussy, to seduce and destroy Mister Tony…thus ending Mister Tony’s reign of joy. Evil Tony possibly also has a devil’s tail which he plugs into Wonderhussy’s Electric Vagina to recharge his Evil energy…this shit is all still in development. LOLz!!!!!

IMG953211 225x300 Im an Artist, Dammit!

The tables have turned!

Anyway, this is all 100% on spec, and I don’t expect to make any money off of it….but what the hell, sometimes ya gotta do shit for the fun of it, right?! Sometimes it’s fun to make Art for the sake of Art, ya know? But by some miracle it does pan out, and I do become a viral video sensation…I have a plan! I’m gonna use my newfound wealth to hire male models and make my own Art. Art involving lace buttfloss, silly facial expressions and ridiculous poses. I may even get a close-up of a hairy anus or two, who can say? I plan to call this genre Revenge Art…and who knows, some day you might catch my show on the 4th floor of a K-Mart somewhere in Nebraska.

simple smile Im an Artist, Dammit!

P.S. I also went down and hiked the Grand Canyon last weekend…..here’s a short video about it. They say you’re not supposed to attempt hiking all the way down to the bottom and back in one day…but this is the second time I’ve done it, and I’m here to tell you it’s totally doable. It’s an asskicker — something like 4500 feet in elevation gain and 17 miles roundtrip — but it’ll definitely help get you to the point where you can crack a walnut in your ass!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 12 Comments

Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

Screen Shot 2015 03 31 at 10.03.01 PM 300x300 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

I can’t call in sick

The only shitty thing about being self-employed is that you can’t call in sick — the show must go on! I came down with some kinda crummy cold/flu thing about a week ago, but…no one is paying me to lay around in bed hacking up mucous. I had to sack the fuck up and git ‘er done!

I had two photo shoots booked earlier in the week, so I just chugged some DayQuil and carried on with the sexy/flirty shtick as best as possible. But it was rough going, let me tell ya — as soon as I was done, I pretty much went home and passed out in bed….and canceled everything else I had planned for the week. BOOOOOO! I hate canceling!! Not only did I miss out on a killer party down at the hot springs with a bunch of Cirque du Soleil acrobats, but I also had to forego my annual 4/20 busking expedition in my Mary Jane showgirl outfit…something I had waited for all year long.

11053358 1066735406687450 5698152588484130363 o 300x169 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

Heading out to busk…

Actually, I did manage to busk a little bit before I really got sick — because 4/20 fell on a Monday this year, which is kind of a slow night of the week, I also went down on Sunday evening 4/19, to try and capitalize on the dregs of the weekend crowd. But it was horrible! Not only did I feel crappy, but the crowd was cheap as fuck — I only made $19 in the hour and a half or so that I was down there :/

But the worst part, as usual, was the other buskers down there. Some of those losers can be real assholes! The first guy I ran into was wearing a pot leaf costume, too — so I went up to him and complimented him on it (even though it was super shitty), and assured him I wouldn’t stand nearby. But what kind of thanks did I get? He accused me of stealing his idea!!! I was like, “WTF?! I made this costume three years ago!” to which he replied, “I’ve been down here every day for two and a half years, and I’ve never seen you.” Uhhhhh, yeah, dickwad! That’s because I have a LIFE and only come down here once a year — if I did it more often, I’d blow my fucking brains out!! Accuse me of stealing your idea?! Give me a fuckin’ break!

kiss 300x233 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

Pic courtesy Tracie D, TripAdvisor.com

Then it got even worse/better. Remember how last time I tried to go busking, I got into a big fight with midget Mr. T, and he threatened to call security on me because I was standing on “his” spot? And he ended up calling me a “stanky-ass ho?” Well, this time I was very careful to steer clear of Mr. T and “his” dumbass spot…but apparently, he’s a dick like that to everyone, because guess who got arrested for starting a fistfight with one of the guys from KISS?!?!?!?! LOL that’s right, I am supremely pleased to report that Mini Mr T and “Peter Criss” (there’s a group of very successful buskers who dress as KISS) were both arrested for fighting over who gets to stand where on Fremont Street. I’m not making this shit up!! Even better, come to find out “Peter Criss” had outstanding warrants, so they took him off to jail. They let Mr T go, but they banished him and all the other members of KISS from busking for the rest of the night.

5397586268 ccc63fb581 b 200x300 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

pic courtesy Kory R, flickr.com

Serves them all right, if you ask me! I don’t know the KISS guys, and to be honest they’ve been doing it for so long down there that I bet they’re all right….but that Mr T is one of the biggest pricks I’ve ever encountered. The other buskers told me that he and “Tupac” are very territorial, and will threaten any other busker who comes near “their” spot. So if you’re reading this, and you’re anywhere near Vegas — or if you plan to be in Vegas anytime in the near future — will you please do me a solid and go downtown, pose for a picture with Mini T…..and then stiff him??? Just to piss him off???? That would be so amazing and would totally serve him right for being such a dick. Thanks!!!!

Aaaaaaanyway, it’s been three weeks since I last updated this blog, so I have plenty more to write about than a bunch of halfbaked morons down on Fremont Street. After my last update, I headed up to the Bay Area of California, to attend the funeral of my ex-brother-in-law, Mike, a police officer in San Jose who was tragically killed in the line of duty last month.

Screen Shot 2015 04 11 at 11.58.36 AM 300x175 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

a still from the last porn I was an extra in, Titty Heist

At first I wasn’t sure if I should even go — I hadn’t talked to him in a few years, so we weren’t really close friends anymore. But he was with my sister for ten years, and during that period we hung out quite a bit and did a lot of crazy shit together. He was basically a member of our family…and since the rest of my family was going, I felt it would be shitty of me not to go. So I cancelled a porn extra gig I had booked, and drove up to San Jose for the funeral.

Now, this wasn’t just any funeral — since he was a police officer, it was a huge to-do, held at the SAP Arena (home of the San Jose Sharks hockey team), with something like 15,000 other police officers and an assortment of politicos and other blowhards in attendance. Since Mike had remarried, my sister was not invited to sit with the family, which is to be expected, I guess….but it was still kinda sad how they cut her completely out of his life story. They had a slideshow of photos documenting his life, but they edited her out of every snapshot, and made no mention of his first marriage in the obituary. Again, I can totally understand doing that out of respect for his second wife…but it was still sad, especially because Mike was almost like a father figure to my other sister and brother, and they really looked up to him when they were growing up. But they were all cut out of the memorial, too.

It was all good, though — after the official ceremony was over, we all went back to my sister’s second ex-husband’s house (her second husband also knew Mike, and is still good friends with our family) and had our own memorial — with all of our photos of Mike. Let me tell you, we have some real doozies!!!! Out of respect for his professional reputation/legend, I won’t post any here — but rest assured, Mike was anything but square when he hung out with us!!! He truly was a cool-as-fuck guy with an open mind and a real progressive bent…and he will be sorely missed frownie Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience I have mixed feelings regarding all this anti-cop bias out there now…I mean, I’ve certainly had my share of run-ins with The Man, but at the same time, look how fuckin’ dangerous their job is! Mike was just responding to a call, and some suicidal whackjob shot him in the head. Neither side has it easy.

IMGP6687 300x199 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

Rent Me
pic by Dan P.

Anyway, after a few days in the Bay Area, I had to head on back down to Vegas to take care of some business before my next adventure — I had a photo shoot with this awesome Norwegian photographer, and then I had to do my damn taxes (if you’re curious, I juuuuust squeaked in over the poverty line). But once I got all that shit out of the way, I was off again!

This time, my travels took me back down to the desert near Palm Springs…because it’s festival season, and you know what that means. NO, not Coachella — puh-lease! I have better things to do than hang out with trustafarian douchebags and chicks in hi-waisted stonewashed jean shorts listening to Indie shoegazers barfing angst all over their American Apparel leggings….blecccchhhhh!!! I’m talking about the Wonder Valley Experimental Noise Festival!!!

20150411 180954 300x169 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

camping in the desert behind the Palms

What is experimental noise, you ask? It’s sort of like music, but without traditional rhythm or melody…and it is far fucking out!! They have these noise festivals out in the desert behind the Palms Restaurant from time to time, and I’d been wanting to check one out ever since I go-go danced at the Noise Disco there last August. The Palms even lets you camp out back for free, so my sister and I made plans to meet there Saturday afternoon, check out the Noise, and then travel around for a few days afterward before heading home.

20150411 181137 300x169 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

all the modern facilities

Holy cow, was that ever amazing!! It was basically a bunch of awesome nerdy white people in their 30s and 40s, plinking and plunking on weird instruments, making heavy use of feedback and distortion, and just generally ruckussing around and having a grand old time. As mentioned it was the same weekend as Coachella, but let me tell you….the Wonder Valley Experimental was about as far from Coachella as you can get!!  I’d rather hang out in Wonder Valley listening to noise any day of the week…it’s way more interesting!

Here’s a short video compilation I made of some of the acts. I didn’t take nearly enough video, but you get the idea — it was insane!! I wish I would have gotten more footage of this one lady who performed toward the end — she had this freaky fucking act with a ventriloquist doll, that involved a lot of whispering and screaming and psychotic-sounding gibberish….OMG it was incredible! But I was pretty wasted by then, so none of my footage came out frownie Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

Meanwhile, I also recognized a few people from the Noise Disco last August — many of the same acts were playing. At one point, I went over to say hi to my friend Rich Polysorbate from Alien Agenda….and almost immediately was sorry I did, as he greeted me with, “Hey, you like danger, right?!” Come to find out, he was busy stuffing a bunch of fireworks into a piñata…and wanted me to douse it with lamp oil, light it on fire, then wave it around on a broomstick during Alien Agenda’s performance. How could I say no?!?

10856644 10205830864747263 4003394536468452566 o 300x240 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

with Alien Agenda

He outfitted me in a “safety suit” made of disposable painters’ overalls, which had been specially customized for me by one of the other members of Alien Agenda, and loaned me one of their tinfoil helmets…and just like that, before you know it I was performing with Alien Agenda! Rich ended up doing most of the piñata-waving, so I just danced around the periphery and stirred up the fire, blasting everything with lamp oil from time to time and basically adding a shit ton of ambiance. I can’t tell you when I’ve had that much fun! Here’s a video; see for yourself:

The next morning, my sis and I packed up camp and had a delicious brunch at the Palms before heading on our way. Our plan was to hit the swap meet in Yucca Valley before heading on out toward the coast, but…again, we got to the swap meet too late, and most of the booths were already closed up frownie Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience Those desert rats get started early; by noon, most of them had already packed up and left. I guess next time I’ll have to camp out across the street…that’s the only way I’ll ever be able to get there early enough!

20150412 182633 300x169 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

Wheeler Gorge

So instead, we drove out toward the coast to spend some time at the beach. I had planned to hit up the Big Caliente hot springs in the mountains near Ojai, but alas, the roads were impassible due to recent rains. So we just camped out at a place called Wheeler Gorge, and it was OK. It just sucks having to pay for camping…I’m spoiled with all that free BLM boondocking we did in AZ and NV :-/

20150413 121539 300x169 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

Swanning around Ojai in my favorite caftan

The next day we went down and checked out the fabulous town of Ojai, which seems to be pretty much rich new Agers and hippies, and then headed on toward one of my favorite places ever, Pirates Cove nude beach near San Luis Obispo; I hadn’t been to the beach in a while, and I guess I was jonesing for some salty sea air on my hoo-ha. The only bummer was, there’s no free camping at all in that area, so we ended up shelling out $45 to camp out nearby at this place called Avila Hot Springs.

20150414 083253 300x169 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

“camping” at Avila Hot Springs

I do not recommend camping or even soaking here; the facilities are pretty much totally lacking in ambiance, and the campground is basically a parking lot next to a U.S. 101 offramp. The soaking pool is very shallow and kinda murky and gross, and even the clientele wasn’t very friendly — not sure what people see in this place!!

But on the plus side, it’s only a 10-minute

20150413 171709 300x169 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

you have been warned!

drive from Pirates Cove nude beach….so at least we were able to get in some quality nude sunbathing time. We got up fairly early and went into nearby Avila Beach for coffee (also not recommended — Avila Beach is a creepy, Stepford-esque fake beach town straight out of Disneyland), and then spent all afternoon baking on the sand at Pirates Cove. Ironically, I was sitting there naked sewing clothes — a fan of this blog had invited me to a Jimmy Buffett concert in Orlando later in the week, so I was putting some last-minute touches on my costume for that. Multitasking — it’s what I do!

IMG954023 300x225 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

at Pirates Cove

Anyway, I would have liked nothing more than to spend at least a few days basking in the sun at Pirates Cove — it’t a beautiful spot, and I hear there are a lot of cool locals who hang out there…but as luck would have it, I got a text message from a fellow model in Vegas telling me an opening had come up at the big Broadcasters’ tradeshow the next day. So in the interest of making money, I figured I’d better pack up and drive home in time to work it. Around 4pm my sis and I hiked out, and I cruised back to Vegas, getting home just in time to pass out for the night.

10422193 10100673784442608 1267874769337046847 n 300x300 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

at the NAB tradeshow with Lou Magelowitz

Fortunately, I only had to work the tradeshow for that one day — the very next day, I was off to Orlando, to see that Jimmy Buffett concert I was talking about. As mentioned, a reader of this blog messaged me the week before, asking if I wanted to be his date to the show, since his longtime girlfriend had backed out. Hmmmm…..Jimmy Buffett?!?

Now, as always my first inclination was to say YES — but then I remembered my new policy of saying NO, which I’ve been trying (unsuccessfully) to adopt as a means of warding off exhaustion. I mean, I’m not even really a fan of Jimmy Buffett…..and flying all the way to Florida to see him play is a huuuuge carbon footprint.

10632885 1064686783558979 4330448350187099163 n 300x165 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land ExperienceBut then I realized that my carbon footprint is already the size of Rhode Island, thanks to all the roadtripping I do….and that seeing Jimmy Buffett perform in Florida is one of those things that should be experienced in the course of a fully-lived life. But the thing that really sealed the deal for me was this: the guy who invited me to the show also offered to take me shopping or sightseeing or whatever I wanted the following day. Well, I didn’t really want to go shopping, and I had just been at the beach in California, and I have no interest in theme parks…

Theme parks!!! That’s when I remembered The Holy Land Experience, this whacked-out evangelical creationist Christian theme park in Orlando…a place I’ve always wanted to go! So I messaged the guy and told him I’d be happy to join him at the Buffett show…as long as we could go to the Holy Land Experience the next day, too!

P4160148 300x225 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

pre-gaming with some tater tots and the obligatory cheeseburger in paradise!

Fortunately, this guy was cool as hell and totally onboard with the idea, so the day after the tradeshow I got up at 4am Vegas time, hauled ass to the airport, and flew to Orlando. The guy who had invited me did an amazing job making me feel welcome — he even greeted me at the airport with a “WONDER HUSSY” sign like limo drivers carry, LOL! He had even booked me my own hotel room, at a swanky place downtown near the events center where the concert was taking place, so after checking in, we went out for a few margaritas to get primed for the show. I guess originally he had planned to take his longtime girlfriend to the show, and that’s why he had booked the hotel room…but things didn’t work out, so he did what everyone should do when they’re in a pinch: CALL WONDERHUSSY! Hopefully, he ended up having a decent time after all. I know I did!

20150416 202214 e1429928497795 300x169 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

margaritas!!!

Now, I had never seen Jimmy Buffett live, and I didn’t even really know many of his songs…but it was actually a pretty good show, and besides, I drank so many margaritas I could have been watching One Direction and I wouldn’t have noticed! The show itself was great — Jimmy Buffett performed barefoot, and genuinely seemed to be having the time of his life — but as always it was the people-watching that really got me: thousands and thousands of blitzed white people in Hawaiian shirts and grass skirts; ex-frat-bro types and their leathery tanned wives, all drunk as skunks and swaying to the music. It was like a Grateful Dead show for the Tommy Bahama set — absolutely amazing!! I even saw a few non-white people in the crowd!

But as amazing as that concert was, it could not compare to the fabulousness that awaited me the next day at the Holy Land Experience. O…….M……….G!!!!!!!

tumblr m107jyiIlT1qet3jw 204x300 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

the fabulous, inimitable Miss Jan Crouch

If you’ve never heard of it, The Holy Land Experience is this fucked-up Bible theme park built by the good people of TBN — that’s the Trinity Broadcasting Network, a/k/a one of those televangelist channels with big-haired ladies asking you for money in return for prayers, etc. The fabulous woman in this photo is Miss Jan Crouch, one of my all-time heroes and style icons — I mean, just look at her!!! I’ve seen her on TV many times, and have always wanted to meet her.

Aside from asking for money on air, TBN also charges $50 to get into their theme park…so you know they’re raking it in — especially because, as a religious institution, they qualify for tax-exempt status (to maintain that status, they have to let people into the park for free one day a year…but they close half the park down “for repairs” on that day, haha). And once you get in, you can’t turn around without bumping into another opportunity to spend more money — there are gift shops around every corner (none selling anything cool, alas…just dumb stuff like study Bibles and Christmas ornaments) and snack bars all over the place (selling Chick-Fil-A….of course).

8n 300x169 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

?!?!?! I think this was supposed to be King David

Now, if you’re a true Christian, you’d be very disappointed by the Holy Land Experience — though it’s billed as an educational step back in time to Biblical days, it’s really just a super-cheap, seriously tacky mess of glitter and rhinestones, with a few sad sacks in crappy Christmas Pageant costumes working the gift shops and food stands. Really pathetic! There are no rides of any sort, and there aren’t even any live characters walking around dressed as Jebus, etc. — just cardboard cutouts strategically placed about the grounds.

8d 300x225 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

cardboard Jesus

But since I wasn’t expecting anything more than a few laffs, I actually had a pretty good time. It only took us about an hour and a half to scope out the entire park (it’s really small, and really fucking chintzy), and I was actually just getting ready to write the whole thing off as a colossal waste of time and money….but then two things changed all that.

23 300x225 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

baptizin’

First, they had a live baptism — anyone who wants to be baptized can sign up at this kiosk, and then an actor playing Jebus dunks you in a fountain in front of an audience of befuddled, cheering halfwits. At the show I witnessed, Jebus baptized a white guy and then this black couple — and all three of the victims looked so happy afterward, it made me curious. I would have volunteered to be baptized myself, just to see what it was all about…but I wasn’t wearing waterproof mascara, and you know how that goes. (I know Jan Crouch understands!!!)

91 300x224 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

you weren’t supposed to take photos during the show, so I stole this one from someone’s Yelp review

Besides the baptism, the other amazing thing I saw at the Holy Land Experience was the 4:00 Passion Play — sort of a Broadway-style retelling of the Story of Jesus, complete with glittery costumes, soulful singing, thundering sound effects and a rousing finale in which Jebus Himself came out into the audience and laid His hands on various audience members, curing them of back pain, cataracts, cancer and more! IT WAS INCREDIBLE! Whoever did the costuming on this masterpiece deserves a Tony Award — it was exceptional, especially the gothed-out chain-festooned hoodie-trenchcoat worn by Satan, and the slutty Hot Topic ensembles worn by his three writhing demon-whores.

8b 300x169 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

meh…

Costuming aside, the most incredible part of the whole show was the fact that Miss Jan Crouch herself was hanging around back in the wings, just offstage — because I was in the front row, I could see her lurking back there, but alas she never did come out onstage. I think she was probably waiting until the show ended, at which time she would come out and ask for donations…but UNFORTUNATELY, I had to haul ass to the airport to catch my flight back to Vegas, so I didn’t get to meet her. Boooo frownie Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

100 300x225 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

farm league Jesus

I was in such a hurry to make my flight, in fact, that I almost ran right past Jebus himself on my way out of the park — I had been wanting a photo with a “real” Jesus all day long, only finding those cheesy cardboard cutouts…but as I ran out of the park toward the airport, I ran into one of the two live Jesuses on duty that day. The main Jesus was back in the theater, still rambling on curing people of cataracts and whatnot. But apparently the 2nd string Jesus, the one who’d done the baptisms, was still lurking around the park…so I stopped for a quick photo with him before hauling ass for the airport. Whew!!!! Just in time!!

8fff e1429929025231 169x300 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

thank you Jebus!!

 

I’ve never been so late for a flight, and I was really sweating it — I had a vaporizer full of weed in my suitcase, so I didn’t want to carry it on and have it go thru the X-ray and everything. But you know how sometimes they won’t let you check a bag if it’s less than 40 minutes before your flight leaves? Well, I told the guy at the check-in desk that I was late because I’d been at the Holy Land Experience….and he totally let me slide!!!! BOO YA! Who says Jesus doesn’t save?! I’m pleased to report, both me and my vape both made it back to Vegas just fine simple smile Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

 

 

7a 300x225 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

me being polite, on a fancy couch at the Holy Land Experience

**P.S. I just want to note that I was very polite and low-key while at the Holy Land Experience….I dressed modestly, and kept all my snarky remarks to myself. I’m an atheist, but I’m not one of those loud-mouthed braying-jackass-type atheists who gets in everyone’s face with their beliefs…I’m just the yellow-bellied kind who acts nice to peoples’ face, then goes home and writes a snarky blog about them.**

***PPS For a full photo account of my trip to the Holy Land Experience, see my Facebook album***

11143539 1066120333415624 3970449551925764897 n 165x300 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

Sock it to me!

Anyway, I got back to Vegas just in time for the next exciting item on the agenda: the biannual Blinking Man bicycle pub crawl, this whacked out sort of neighborhood bike ride they do around downtown Vegas, where everyone dresses up and decorates their bikes with blinking lights and stuff, then rides around from bar to bar getting soused. It’s one of my all-time favorite events, so I wanted to be sure I was home in time to get ready for that. This time the theme was the Beatles…so I rigged up an old-time 1960s bathing suit, then strung some lights in an old beehive wig I once bought at a drag store on Hollywood Blvd. I even placed a miniature version of the famous “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign at the very top, in honor of Miss Betty Willis, the sign’s designer, who died that very same day out in Overton, this creepy little Mormon town near Lake Mead. It came out great, and a fabulous time was had by all.

7 225x300 Experimental Noise and the Holy Land Experience

in happier times, in the “Garden of Eden”

Soooooo….after all that, no fucking wonder I got sick!! You might say my sickness was Divine Retribution, incurred by my mocking the Lord Jebus Christ at the Holy Land Experience….but I prefer to believe that my sickness was caused by Germs, incurred by my flying on an airplane, which is basically a giant petri dish of bacteria. The last time I got sick was when I took that cruise…..also a giant petri dish. I think I’m gonna stick to road-tripping from now on — my truck may be slightly beat-up looking, but at least I keep it clean inside!!!

Ughhhhh……..

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 10 Comments