Month: July 2012

Gang-Probed by Doctors at a Creeeeeepy Medical Conference

<— Have you ever seen that "First World Problem" meme? Where they compare REAL problems like clean drinking water and child soldier militias to the fake-ass bullshit problems we Americans whine about? 

Well, this week, I was BURDENED with First World problems! And I'm here to tell ya…1st World, 3rd World…they're ALL a pain in the ass.

The main problem I faced was with the fucking useless U.S. Postal Service — which LOST my Burning Man ticket!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I spent over $400 and rimmed Larry Harvey five times to secure a ticket to the social event of the freak season, and I was excited to see that Burning Man finally shipped my ticket out via Signature Confirmation mail on the 15th. I kept an eye on the mailbox, but you know I can't stay home 24/7 waiting for a fuckin' letter. Sure as sugar, the mail carrier came when I was out hustling, so they left a little postcard telling me to come pick it up at the post office the following day. Not a problem! I cruised over there Thursday afternoon, after having lunch with my friend from StoopidVegas.com — but the damn letter wasn't at the post office!!

The jackass at the counter told me to call back between 8-9am the following day (Friday) so I could speak with my mail carrier and arrange for delivery, but you KNOW my dissolute ass ain't out of bed at that whacked-out hour. Instead, I got up at my usual time (closer to 10 or 11am) and waited around the house alllllllllllllll day for the mail carrier…who came and left me some mail, but did not knock or ring the doorbell or otherwise alert me to the fact that s/he had a letter requiring my signature.

FUCK!

The next day (Saturday) I had to work all day, so I left a note clipped to the front of my mailbox, along with the postcard they'd left me: "MAIL CARRIER! PLEASE LEAVE THIS LETTER AT THE POST OFFICE. I WILL PICK UP ON MONDAY!" Well….Monday rolls around, I drive all the way BACK to the fucking post office (which, incidentally, is pretty fuckin' far away from my house)…and the letter STILL isn't there!!! Worse, the asshat at the counter tells me "Well why don't you do like I told you and call between 8-9am?" I snapped, "Because like I told YOU, I work nights, and I'm SLEEPING at that hour!" Asshole! I stormed out of there, resigned to getting up early the next day and calling them AGAIN.

So that night I went to bed as early as possible, and set my alarm for 8am Tuesday, at which time I called the post office and was put on hold by 3 different people before finding out that my mail carrier was on vacation or some shit, but that someone would "call me back." Of course, no one ever did. I called back myself later on and spoke to a supervisor, who said he would "look for it" AGAIN, but then never called me back, either.

So finally on Day SEVEN (Wednesday) I set my alarm for 8am AGAIN, called the post office AGAIN, and got the same fucking runaround: "I'll look for it and call you back." ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHH!!!!! Now I know the meaning of the term "going postal." These assholes have no fear because their fat asses are locked into cushy government jobs, and there's no competition for their shitty services. OR IS THERE??? BURNING MAN ORG/ IN TICKETING, I BESEECH YOU: USE FEDEX/ UPS NEXT YEAR!!!!! Privative that shit already!

Aaaaaaaanyhoo, I was pretty vehement on the phone, and called back several times until I **FINALLY** got a straight answer: "Uhh, we tore this place inside out and we can't find your letter anywhere!" THANK YOU! All I wanted was a fucking honest answer from you people so I can get started appealing to the ticketing agent in time to save Christmas!!!

So I emailed the ticketing agent explaining my predicament, and sent two emails to Burning Man, and also emailed a complaint to the Post Office for good measure. We'll see what happens. Some guy from Burning Man actually put down his pipe long enough to reply to one of my emails, saying that I should wait a week or so and see if the Post Office returned the letter to the ticketing agent. If I haven't heard anything by the first weekend in August, I'm supposed to email him again and they'll "work something out." Work something out!!! I should hope so — I've had like the shittiest year of my life, and the only thing that will cheer me up is to run aroudn the desert naked and baked out of my brains, hula hooping to electronic music for 10 days straight!!!!!!

Arrrgh!

Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, in the meantime I've been dealing with all manner of other First World bullshit. In addition to losing my Burning Man ticket, the Post Office also lost the autoharp tuning wrench I ordered from amazon.com…so I STILL can't play the fucking autoharp I bought last month! Then the power company sent me a termination notice because my bill was delinquent — come to find out, when I moved I forgot to log into my online bill payer and change my account number, so my payments have been going into the old inactive account where over time they mysteriously "disappeared" (you tell ME how money can just "disappear…" it was debited from my bank account, so SOMEONE has it!!!). On top of THAT, the souvenir photo company where I work owes me $40 back pay from a month ago that they're making me beg for, and on top of THAT my health insurance agent entered my date of birth wrong on my insurance application — so when I developed a RAGING FUCKING YEAST INFECTION I had to dick with all THAT, too, before I could even get a fucking doctor's appointment!

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!

Speaking of that, it was awful. I think the yeast infection I had back in May never really went away, despite my having taken TWO Diflucan…and it reappeared with a MIGHTY VENGEANCE this week. My shitty-ass health insurance only allows me TWO measly doctor's visits a year (!!!!), so I had to use one of them up for this nonsense :-/ (I should have just gone to Planned Parenthood, in retrospect…but WHAT THE FUCK is the point of paying $154/month for health insurance if you're just gonna use Planned Parenthood?????) Anyhoo, the doctor prescribed me some foul goo with which to baste my birth canal every night before bed, and told me to only wear plain white, pure cotton underwear from now on.

WTF! Easier said than done! I went to Wal Mart, and all their fucking plain white undies are size XXXL granny briefs!!! Help!!!! If anyone knows a good place to buy inexpensive white cotton panties that have a surface area less than Wyoming, please let me know ASAP!

So aaaaaanyhoo, speaking of the medical insurance business, this week I got a special insight as to why it's so fucked up. I've been desperate for work lately, so I was beating up the help wanted ads on Craigslist, and got a gig as a model at a medical conference in Henderson. It sounded pretty straightforward — they said to wear black yoga pants, and they would give us a white branded tank top to wear. I figured we'd be handing out flyers or something… WRONG!

I showed up and hung around with the four other bimbos they had hired, and suffered through their miserably inane bullshit conversation about boys, eyelash extensions and blah blah blah until the lady in charge came over and told us what we'd be doing: basically acting as guinea pigs on which the doctors could practice using this new ultrasound equipment. Normally I guess they use cadavers, but to give the docs a thrill they hired real, live models this time. Can you say CREEEEEEEEPY???

The lady told us they needed three of us to have our upper arms done, one to have the lower back done, and one to have the hip done. Now, I hadn't shaved my legs in about four months, so I didn't want to expose my legs, and volunteered for the lower back instead. "Oooh, someone must be single," one of the other bitchy "models" smirked. Fuck you, you two-bit hag hack! I don't shave more than twice a month, and guess what…I STILL have plenty of guys banging on my door!

The tables turned on that dumb bitch, though — she ended up being the hip model, and had to pull down her pants and expose her nasty, hairy snatch!!!!! HA HA, BITCH! She was totally mortified — and actually rightfully so, since the craigslist ad hadn't mentioned anything about anything like this, and the gig only paid $100 total. Serves her right, though!

Meanwhile, we all changed into scrubs and laid on exam tables in this giant operating theater, while groups of doctors came around and prodded us with ultrasound probes. They were supposedly ultra-sounding my "lower back," but it was basically my ass, all the way. I've never had so many strange men sploshing goo on my asscheeks, then probing me and complimenting me on my excellent piriformis (lookit up….LMFAO!). It was kinda weird, but to be honest I was already pretty well used to that shit from when I used to shoot for my medical fetish site, www.divinelyssa.com, and all we ever DID was play with ultrasound machines. So I wasn't as freaked out as the other girls, and even kinda dozed off laying there, face down with some orthopedic surgeon from Houston poking my piriformis. 

After awhile we got a break, during which Little Miss Bitch whined incessantly about how "uncomfortable" she was having her nasty-ass scraggly pubes exposed…so I finally offered to switch with her, mostly to shut her up but also because the doctor in charge of her station was kinda hot. So now I got to lay there with my own nasty-ass scraggly '70s bush half-exposed while they ultrasounded my hip flexor or some such nonsense, only making one or two inappropriate jokes about trans-vaginal probes (I'm not kidding, they really did!!). But the worst part was listening to the doctors' greedy babbling: "So how do we bill for this procedure?" According to the main demonstrating doctor there was a certain way they could bill the procedure to maximize profits, so he spent half the fuckin' time telling them how to do THAT instead of how to use the fucking machine!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Talk about a broken fucking system! Gawd, I wish I could have hidden a camera in my twat and recorded all this — you would have PUKED!

But all in all it was a very easy gig, and I would definitely do it again. Alas, it was a one-time thing, so it was back to Craigslist for me the very next day. I got all excited when I saw an ad for "SEXY BIKINI CLOWNS NEEDED!" and started typing up my application right away…before stopping to think for a minute that maybe I should check the website first, to see what the gig was all about. I went to bikiniclowns.com, and O…M…G!!!!! "The Hottest, Sexiest Clowns Sucking and Fucking and Masturbating…." nooooooooooooo thanks! I may call myself a Wonderhussy, but I'm really a secret square about stuff like that — I can't even be a stripper, for chrissakes, because I'm too shy to give a lap dance…let alone fucking and sucking and masturbating!!!! 

Craigslist was pretty dry other than that, so I gave up on work and decided to just take care of other business. I spent 6 hours cleaning my house and my camper (getting ready for Burning Man, dog willing), and then another day I went and got a chemical peel from this awesome aesthetician who used to be an Oakland Raiders cheerleader back in the day. In case you're wondering, a chemical peel is when they splash glycolic acid all over your face to blister off the acne and stuff — and I'm here to tell ya, IT WORKS! This woman blasted my face so that it peeled for about 4 days afterward, but it looks better now, and I will definitely be going back again. My acne has been flaring up as of late, so I gotta do something!

Then another day one of my friends, who is an Alice Cooper impersonator/blackjack dealer, came over and replaced my brake pads for me. I watched him do it, and it looked pretty straightforward — I bet I can do it myself next time! He did it for free, but I hooked him up with a special thank-you gift because the last thing I want to do is take advantage of an Alice Cooper impersonator…ya know?!  

Another night I went over to Wonderground, this monthly variety show/event thing where a bunch of magicians and weirdos congregate to do tricks and schmooze and booze. My roommate had volunteered to be bodypainted at this month's event (they do a different model every month; I've done it a time or two myself) so I cruised over to support him. He looked GREAT! A quick word about my roommate: he's a NUT, obsessed with fitness and health food and alternative energy and stuff, and he's a very cool person. We get along great, since we're both ultra-vain freaks…and we both lead unconventional, self-employed lifestyles that have us coming and going at all 

hours of the day and night. He drives a big, red beat-up old rapist-looking van…which he leaves parked out front in the driveway, so no one fucks with us because they think we're molesters or something. Fabulous!!! Anyhoo, he did a great job at Wonderground and the pic at left is fantastic — like Fabio raping Mrs. Roper!!! 

Speaking of my roommate, I need to do a photo shoot with him as a Viking or some kinda old-time romance novel shtick, and me as the heaving-bosomed damsel in his arms. The only problem is, I don't have a bosom to heave 🙁 But I'm sure I'll come up with SOMEthing!

And speaking of photo shoots, I have all these GREAT ideas that I want to shoot, but am short on funds to get the needed props. For one, I need about 50 Hostess Sno-Balls — you know those pink coconut-covered cakes that look and feel like breast implants?! One of my neighbors claims to have an inside connection at Hostess, and is supposedly gonna get me a whole pallet for cheap…but I'm not holding my breath. If anyone reading this wants to donate, I have Sno Balls on my amazon.com wish list here. Once I get at least 50 of them, I can do this amazing photo I have in mind! Trust me, it's sexxxy, edgy and will give you hours of enjoyment…I promise! 😀

On that same note, the fucking haters at kickstarter.com DENIED my project to raise money to buy a metal slave bikini like Princess Leia wore when she was captured by Jabba the Hutt in Return of the Jedi. I could TOTALLY rock this costume — it's only about $50 online — but I'm a broke-ass fool these days, and can't justify spending $50 of my own money to buy one. My idea was to start a kickstarter campaign to raise money for my wacky photo shoots — they're ART, DAMMIT! — but the fuckin' hipster elitists at kickstarted shot me down 🙁 WHY???? If anyone has other ideas as to how I can raise money to buy these things, please let me know asap.

Thank you!

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Mountain Biking, Snoopy, a Party Bus and a Blow-Up Doll

 

Well people, as mentioned I need to make $13,000 ASAP, so I'm trying to hustle and get as much work as I can these days. Unfortunately, the well has been kinda dry lately. What happened to all the pervs?! They were here last time I checked…

Since I didn't have much in the way of work this past week, I took a few days off to go back to Utah with my boyfriend, who is literally obsessed with mountain biking. When I say obsessed, I mean OBSESSED. He didn't bring his bike when we were up there last month, but he had a raging hard-on for all the trails and mountains up there, and he couldn't wait to get back.

 

 

 

 

 

To lure me back out there, he offered to rent bikes and take me on an easy beginner trail, around Navajo Lake. Now, I have very little interest in mountain biking myself — I like bike riding, but mostly around town from bar to bar and stuff like that. I'm no adrenaline junkie, so the thought of careening madly down a mountainside on two wheels leaves me pretty cold. But I do enjoy a good workout, and I enjoy his company, so I agreed to try it. Besides, as a conciliatory gesture, he agreed to camp out in the woods this time, in my little pop up camper. He's not really into camping, so I took it upon myself to show him how much fun camping can be! This time, I was sure to bring PLENTY of booze, so that we wouldn't run into trouble with those jacked-up liquor laws in the lame state of Utah — I packed 3 bottles of wine for a 3-night trip. Alas, however….the whole trip was a giant clusterfuck!!!

It started out OK — we found this beautiful campsite in the woods near Duck Creek, among the aspens and pine trees. I set up my camper, made a fire, and settled in for some goooooood times. But then it went off the rails. First off, Captain C. drank a third of my liquor supply, the very first night! This was a real problem, because the road from town was undergoing some emergency repairs, and was only open AFTER 7pm. Well, the state-controlled liquor stores up there CLOSE at 7pm! CRISIS!!!!!!!!

Next, some crusty old asshat came over from the neighboring campsite: "Hey, just so you guys know, there's a campfire ban in effect. If the campground host sees you, he'll throw you out! Just so you know!" Whenever someone says "Just so you know," you KNOW they're an asshole. Right???!

Well, I'm a pussy and was inclined to put out the fire right away, even though I just put a baked potato in there for my dinner. But Captain C told me not to worry — we were pretty far back in the woods, far from the campground host, and it was already 10pm. He seemed to think there'd be no harm in keeping our fire going for another hour, just long enough to finish cooking dinner. Besides, the entire fuckin' forest was damp from some rainfall earlier…so the fire danger was way low anyway.

But sure as sugar, that crusty old asshat must have gone over and ratted us out, because about 30 minutes later here comes the campground host, another crusty old asshat. Captain C laid it on very thick: "Oh, we're sorry sir, we'll put it out right away." FUCK! What fun is camping if you can't have a fuckin' campfire? Now I had to dig my potato out of the wet ashes, and we retreated into my camper to cook the rest of our dinner on the stove in there. Half-baked potato cut into slices and fried in butter…Lame!!! I ended up drinking the second third of my booze supply and passing out watching a movie on Captain C's iPad.

The next morning, Captain C slept til noon while I got up (fuckin' insomnia) and did yoga in the woods and stuff, waiting for him to wake up so we could go mountain biking. We rented the bikes and headed out to the trail, a BEAUTIFUL loop around Navajo Lake that was supposed to be a really easy beginner's jaunt. Easy, my ass!!!!! That was one of the hardest workouts I've ever done!! I almost died about 5 times, fell off my bike about 20 times, and broke down bawling once (in my defense, I was on my period…plus I fell off my seat, hit my puss bone on the cross bar and cut the fuck out of my knee on the fucking pedal). But…I made it around the lake, and in pretty good time! Captain C kept encouraging me and telling me how GREAT I was doing…but I'm the kind of person who thinks people are full of shit when they say stuff like that, so I had a hard time believing him.

Still, it was a great workout and a beautiful ride, and we got back to my truck just in time — a thunderstorm broke out just as we got in. And then it pretty much poured rain the rest of the afternoon, evening and night. LAME! We went back to camp to wait out the storm in my trailer, and Captain C fell asleep again for around 4 hours while I sat in the gloom and read this book I had brought about a Japanese serial rapist. My lantern batteries were dead, so once it got dark I had to read my light of my headlamp, and everything was damp and soggy and shitty and miserable. To make matters worse, everytime I had to pee I had to venture out into the pouring rain…but there was NO WAY I was gonna stop drinking! Captain C finally woke up around 9pm and we killed the rest of my booze and played Connect Four and stuff in the dark before finally giving up and going to bed. L.A.M.E.!!!

It rained all night, but thankfully let up for a little bit in the morning, so I was able to pack up and get the fuck out of there in time before it started in again. We drove back to Vegas in pretty much pouring rain the entire time. Worst camping trip EVER!!!! Hopefully I didn't scar Captain C for life, because I **LOVE** camping and want to do much more of it before the summer is over. But after that fiasco, I don't know if he'll be game.

Once I got back to town, things picked up a bit. I recently started writing reviews for this Vegas tourism website, where they send you around town to various shows and then have you write a short review. It doesn't pay much, but every little bit counts — and besides, none of the other female writers wanted to do the male stripper revues, so I got to go see them all! First they sent me to see American Storm, down at the Plaza…which was laughably low-rent and truthfully pretty bad. The only fun part was watching the audience — about 30 down-and-out women fresh from the Greyhound Bus station next door, including a bachelorette party that somehow ended up downtown instead of on the Strip. But the show itself was honestly kind of excruciating to watch. The dancers weren't even hot!

Next they sent me to see Chippendales, at the Rio, which was much better. But then they sent me to the Excalibur to see Thunder From Down Under, the Australian beefcake revue — and that one blew them ALL out of the water!! Seriously, ladies, if you're coming to Vegas and want to see one of these shows…take it from me; Thunder is the shit! The dancers are smokin' hot and they actually do really cool stuff. Plus, the emcee is WAY funnier (and dirtier) than the ones at the other shows. Don't waste your time — head straight for the Excalibur!

Aside from earning a few bucks writing, I also did another mascot gig, this time as Snoopy (from the Charlie Brown cartoons, ya know?!). It was for some kind of all-black lawyers' convention that was having a public speaking contest for high school students, so I mostly just sat there in a room listening to young black go-getter kids deliver motivational speeches about Martin Luther King and stuff. Whoever says black youth are lazy ne'er-do-wells is FULL OF SHIT…these kids were ON it! I felt like a total loser, sweating inside my Snoopy costume waiting for my 2 hours to be up so I could get out of the fur suit and get over to my next gig. Good GRIEF, Charlie Brown!! After posing for some photos with the winners, and jumping around and waving and high-fiving people for a minute or two, I got the fuck out of there!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My next gig was this video shoot I did for an upcoming project that is going to take Vegas by STORM! I can't tell you all the details yet, but it's gonna be AWESOME — one of my friends who runs a scavenger hunt company devised an idea for an amazing new interactive Vegas diversion, and he hired a crew of wackos to spend two days shooting this amazingly well-produced promo video for it. I played a bachelorette, which was fun because I doubt I'll ever have one of those parties myself, and it was a hoot to dress up in a tiara and sash and all that cheesy shit you see allllll the time on the Vegas Strip. We spent two nights cruising around town in a party bus full of booze with a clown and a blow-up doll and all kinds of wacky characters, stopping in at crack motels and dive bars and having all kinds of dangerous shenanigans. IT WAS A BLAST! I can't wait to share the video with you — stay tuned!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, aside from working, I also indulged my artistic side with a photo shoot with a fabulous new photographer I met by the name of Billy Ward. This guy is AWESOME! I forsee great things for our future. We shot a bunch of groundbreakingly fabulous photos at my house, but he hasn't had time to edit most of them yet because he also works full time as a chef (he used to be Ted Turner's personal chef, LOL, until he ran afoul of Jane Fonda). But here's a shot from our session, just to give you a taste of the fabulousness to come!

One other thing I did was write an article for the BRC Weekly — the free newspaper of Burning Man, that they hand out on the Playa at the event. If you're going to Burning Man this year, be sure to pick up your free copy…and enjoy my scathing rant therein on the Pervs of the Playa. Woot!! Speaking of Burning Man, I finally started getting revved up about it — they mailed me my ticket, but I have to go pick it up at the post office because it requires a signature, and I'm never home when the mail woman comes. Arrrgh!

And if you are going to Burning Man, be sure to stop by and say Hi. I'll be camping with the Black Rock Roller Disco, a group of visionary rollerskate fiends who set up a full-scale rollerskating rink in the desert every year!!! This year their camp is located at 7:30 and Esplanade….so come on down and shake a leg! I'll be the one on mushrooms, hula hooping naked 😀 SEE YA THERE!!!!!!!!!

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Rude Assholes at Work and Lecherous Nudists

Oy, VEY IS MIR! What a SHITTY week!!!

The shit, of course, all centered around my shit-ass job as a souvenir photographer at a certain Strip showroom. I’ve been doing this job for 12 years (!!!) and it used to be pretty good money — straight commission for as many cheesy souvenir kissy-face photos as you can sell to a showroom audience. I work at the biggest theater in town, at one of the classier shows, so you’d think I’d have it pretty good. WRONG! Business has been going down the shitter lately; people aren’t as into photos as they used to be, and I haven’t even cracked $100 most nights lately. The last night I worked, I only made $50!!! Achhhhh!!!

The one night I did make some money, paradoxically, was the night I had to sacrifice my dignity and stand beside a wax effigy of the headliner who performs in the showroom where I work, hawking photos “with” the star. Humiliating!!! Many’s the time I’ve qvetched about that damn creepy mannequin, but guess what? It’s still around. My hopes were raised when they took the head off it for a few days, but all they did was re-style its ugly-ass hairdo, and touch up its makeup. WTF! It’s a mannequin!!! 

Ghastly or no, a certain demographic loooves this mannequin…and this past week it was my turn to work that station (there are 8 photographers in the theater, and we take turns, since the mannequin is — bizarrely — the most lucrative spot to work). Lucky me, the night I got it was the night some poor fool decided to propose to his girlfriend in front of the mannequin!!!!! And SHOCKINGLY, she said yes!!

All this was captured on camera by yours truly, and I would love nothing more than to share these hilarious photos with you: he’s crying, she’s crying, and the godawful ghastly mannequin is standing in the background staring blankly ahead over both of them. It’s WEIRD! Alas, I’m afraid I’d lose my job if I shared these photos with you…so you’ll just have to use your imagination 🙂

Anyhoo, aside from the indignity of shooting photos of a wax mannequin, I was also subjected to various other tortures at work these past couple of weeks. For some reason, people have been just rude lately. I’m not exactly cut out for customer service (a/k/a ass-kissing) in the best of times….and when people are downright rude to me, it’s REALLY hard for me to hold my tongue. Like last week, I was going around in the theater doing my job. I approached one party of four and asked them if they’d like a photo. “How about a kiss?!” one of the men retorted.

I laughed it off, because you know me — I’ve heard much worse. Besides, the guy was so ugly and obviously foreign that I felt sorry for him, so I cut him some slack. But wouldn’t you know it, when I came back a little while later, to photograph an adjacent party of Chinese tourists, the same asshole started in again: “How about a kiss?!”

This time, I called out “SECURITY!!!” in a half-joking tone of voice…which really set the fucker off guffawing and braying like a love-starved jackass. As I continued going about my business photographing the Chinese group, he kept a running commentary of rude remarks directed toward me: “You need to get out of Vegas! You need a boyfriend!”

Finally I snapped at him, “YOU need some MANNERS! I’m a person, with feelings, not a photo-bot…don’t talk to me like that!”

Ooooooooh, snap! Now this blonde hag that was in his party started in: “Who do you work for? What’s your name?!” Obviously, she wanted to report me for bad behavior, so I just walked away and went about my job. But she followed me, grabbed my name tag and said “Sarah Jane, huh?!” with a smirk and a little nod, like, “I’ll show you for daring to talk back to my asshole friend!!!!”

Here’s where I snapped: in front of everyone, I said, “I hope you DO report me! Please — CALL MY BOSS! Because everyone in this section of the theater saw what happened! He had NO CALL to treat me like that!”

Thankfully, the show started right after that, and the headliner’s caterwauling soon shut out all thoughts of revenge. Still, I had put in a preemptive call my boss to warn him that some angry miserable old hag might be calling him soon to complain about me…which I still feel was completely unjustified. That man was harassing me, plain and simple, and there is no reason I should have to put up with that. Whatever I do in my personal life (hah!!!), when I’m at work I carry myself more or less professionally — I wear a suit and carry a camera and am obviously not a whore or a dumb chippie. So don’t talk to me like that!!

A few days later, it was even worse. I was out in the casino, waiting for the show to be over so I could sell my photos and get the fuck out of there to go home, drink wine and watch The Wire…when some self-important douche-nozzle comes barreling up, demanding: “Where’s ___?” (An overpriced sushi restaurant that is soon to open in the hotel.)

“I don’t think it’s open yet,” I started to tell him, but he cut me off:

“I KNOW it’s open because I have a reservation and the CHEF just called to CONFIRM with me!!! Now WHERE IS IT?!!”

Now, I know for a fact that this restaurant is not opening until later this year — I walk past the fuckin’ drywall where it’s supposed to be every single day. But what do I know? I’m just a service industry peon. Still, I tried to tell him, “Uh, no, actually, I’m pretty sure–”

“I’M NOT ASKING YOU IF IT’S OPEN!!!!!! I’M ASKING YOU WHERE IT IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” This cunt-ass fat fuck was yelling at me like I was less than a speck of flyshit on a wad of horseshit for daring to try and help him. Fuck you! You see, I thought he was probably confused, and meant one of the other sushi restaurants in the hotel — I was going to try and help him get to the right place out of fucking professional courtesy and hospitality! But he wanted none of that, so I just pointed him in the direction of the drywalled-off, NOT YET OPEN restaurant he was talking about. Dumbass!!!!! I bet he was salty as fuck when he got there and saw that I was right! I would have given anything to see his fat cunty face when saw that I was right. Asshole!

That restaurant is gonna suck, anyway — the drywall is covered with stupid quotes from celebrities raving about how awesome the food is at its other locations, and the celebrities are Bill Clinton, Madonna and Kate Winslet. Kate Winslet?! With all respect to Kate Winslet, since when is she a fuckin’ food critic?! Who the fuck bases their restaurant choices on the rantings and ravings of the likes of Madonna, for that matter?!! What the fuck is wrong with this world?!!?!????

Aaaaaaaanyhoo, speaking of shitty restaurants, listen to THIS! About four months ago I was called into our corporate office because I had written a negative Yelp! review of a steakhouse at the same hotel. My employer asked me if I would please consider taking it down, since they were trying to get in good with that restaurant so they would allow souvenir photographers to roam around harassing the diners. I REALLY didn’t want to take down the review — this restaurant treated me ABOMINABLY, and had the chutzpah to charge me $350 on top of it all — but my employer told me if I didn’t, they might lose their entire photo concession at that hotel…meaning me and all my friends would lose our jobs. “And you wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?!?!?!?” So, I very begrudgingly took the review down. Censorship!!!

Well, the other night I finally found out what happened: the executive chef in that restaurant saw my review online, and freaked the fuck out. He supposedly went all the way to the president of the entire hotel/casino to try and get me fired over it — ALL FOR SPEAKING THE TRUTH! What the hell! What a sad, petty man. Apparently, they couldn’t really fire me over something like that…so to this day, that fucker is pissed as hell at me, and wishes me ill. What a jerk!

Now, as if all THAT weren’t enough, my boyfriend Captain Crunch was mad at me too! He felt like I was taking advantage of him and taking him for a fool (long story that basically boils down to I need to start paying for half of everything), and then he went and made plans with his guy friend on the only night off we had in common…so I haven’t seen him in about a week. Sad! It was mostly a miscommunication, which we cleared up, and we are going camping in Utah tomorrow (he hates camping, but acquiesced to my desires in a conciliatory gesture)…so everything should be OK. I hope! That blossoming relationship was one of the few bright spots in my life these days!

And then as if THAT weren’t enough, I almost got my Facebook profile deleted again for making a negative comment about that dumb new movie “Ted” on an anti-Family Guy Facebook page!!!!! I couldn’t believe it — my account was actually frozen because some assmunching dingleberry flagged a comment I made about Ted on the “I Hate Family Guy” page. WHAT???!!!! Don’t tell me that jerkoff Seth MacFarlane is behind all this! I loathe Family Guy and anything Seth MacFarlane-related — it’s just not funny to me! But the one thing I can get behind is his anti-censorship shtick. So, why the fuck was I censored for saying something bad about his movie?!?????? SETH!!! If you’r reading this, WHAT GIVES???!

Arrrgh. Now that I’ve got all that bitching off my chest, I feel a lot better. And thankfully, I have almost 2 weeks off now…so I get some much-needed time away from work. That place was driving me crazy!

Still, I shouldn’t be so happy to be off for two weeks, because I kinda need some money! I think I already mentioned how I need to earn about $13,000 before I’m finally financially set…well, it’s been slow going. I did a random gig as a mascot at a Latino Family Day event, and then I did a couple photo shoots in random people’s hotel rooms…but altogether it only added up to around $465 🙁 Meanwhile, my stripper friends keep talking about all the money they’ve been making…and I feel like an idiot! I’ll let some Colombian girl suck my toes at the Aria for $165, but I won’t dry-hump some losers in a dark strip club for thousands?! WHAT is my major malfunction?!?!

I especially need to start making some money because…guess what?? I *FINALLY* got health insurance!!! Blue Cross/Blue Shield decided I’m not that big of a train wreck, after all, and issued me a preferred policy (LOL)!!!! Can you fucking believe it?!! After TWO YEARS of trying and being denied, now all of a sudden I’m a preferred customer?!?! This lady down at Nevada Benefits really came thru for me on this one, and now I have the extreme privilege of shelling out $154/month in exchange for TWO doctor’s visits a year (aside from annual checkups, which are considered preventative care and are free) and a $1000 deductible. Yaaaay….??? I guess it’s a good thing to have in case of super traumatic injury…but otherwise, I kinda feel like I’m just pissing away $6 a day. I can’t really get much more out of it! Hmmmm.

Oh, well. I did have SOME fun these past couple of weeks…I went out on the lake on my friend’s boat, and brought a few of my girlfriends along for fun. Before long we were all naked, swimming around in Cooter Cove and having the time of our lives. It’s been really HOT here lately — like around 115 degrees — so the lake was the perfect place to be. My friend has a medium-sized boat that seats about 6 people, which was just the right amount for a party. Unfortunately, both times we went out I had places to be in the evening, so I couldn’t stay out all night — which would have been AWESOME!

One of the days, I had to hurry back into town to catch the 8:00 performance of Chippendales, which I was reviewing for a local website. It was great!! The guys came out in all the cliched tough-guy costumes: Marines, vampires, construction workers, etc…then ripped it all off and teabagged the air while dry-humping invisible lovers. Nice. The best part about those shows is watching the crowd, anyway…those women were going apeshit! Good times! Thankfully, the website I write for (accessvegas.com) only has a few female staff writers, and none of them want to cover the male revues. Lucky me!! I’ve already seen American Storm and Chippendales, so hopefully next they send me to Thunder From Down Under — I’ve always thought those guys were exceptionally hot!

Speaking of websites I write for, I also just teamed up with DrunkenAbsurdity.com to write stuff as one of their Revolutionaries…you can check out my first piece here! It’s all about the magic of Fremont Street, a place I dearly love but haven’t spent much time in lately. I need to get back down there!

Now, one last thing I did last week was go to a swingers’ pool party. As you may know by now, I kinda hate swingers’ parties — I’m not a swinger, I just like being naked — but the friend who invited me to this one swore up and down it wasn’t a swingers’ thing — just a bunch of people who like to be naked. HAH!!!!! OF COURSE it turned out to be a swingers’ party, and I saw some things I can’t erase from my memory, no matter how I try. The most egregious example was this one old letch in the pool, one of those older tanned guys with a gold chain around his neck and a dyed-black pompadour mullet, who had a “hot” (loosely speaking) wife that he liked to show off — one of those boozy, floppy-titted blondes with frizzy hair and stretch marks who was busy a-suckin’ away at her man’s dick as he sat on the edge of the pool. She got bored after awhile and drifted away, leaving her hubby’s ginormous shaven schlong bobbing up and down like an old-fashioned elevator handle: “Going DOWN?!!” GROSS! His hairless nutsack drooped along underneath as bald as a baby’s ass, and try as I might I could not look away. UGH!!!! WHY???? I got the fuck out of there shortly afterward!

I mean, I really enjoy being naked. Why can’t there be a place for people like me, who enjoy unsexualized nudity?!?!?? Aren’t there any of you out there??????? I guess not!

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