Why $9,000 by Dec. 3rd? Well, after I lost my other house to the vultures at Chase/Seterus, a very kind friend offered me an opportunity to start anew: he basically gifted me a cheap shitbox of a house in downtown Vegas, with the understanding that I would buy it from him over time. (You’d be surprised at how little money it takes to buy a house in Vegas these days…even a schmuck like me can afford one.) My friend was kind enough not to charge me interest on it, so since then I’ve been paying him back incrementally, bit by bit….but as it happens, I need to come up with nine large by December.
So I’ve been hustling like a madwoman, trying to earn the money to pay my debt off. As usual, the pursuit of money has led me down some unsavory avenues….but lucky for me, this past week I finally scored a few totally SAVORY gigs for a change!
The most savory of all was this two-day photo shoot I was hired for, out in a ghost town at Gold Point, NV. These two photographers from back East had hired four models for a sort of road trip/photo shoot, and had rented out an entire ghost town for the purpose. They were going for a classic art-nude look, and said they had a devil of a time finding appropriate models in Vegas — apparently, most models here are of the giant-fake-titted, bleached-blonde-hair-extension variety…which was not what they were looking for. But after much searching of ModelMayhem.com, they finally came up with four all-natural Vegas chicks (probably the ONLY four all-natural chicks in Vegas). And I’m pleased to report…ALL of us had a bush, in one form or another
Anyhoo, we all met up at the Hard Rock on Friday morning, and then piled in the car for the 3-hour drive up to Gold Point. Now, I’ve lived here for 12 years, and pride myself on my extensive knowledge of the surrounding desert…but I’d never heard of Gold Point. Whaaaaa?!!! HOW HAVE I MISSED OUT ON THIS FANTASTIC SPOT ALL THIS TIME?!!
Apparently, Gold Point was an old mining town near Lida, just off U.S. 95 North (I pass it every year on my way to Burning Man…D’OH!!) An old-West buff bought the town piece by piece, and after winning a $220,000 jackpot playing video poker at the Texas Station Casino, used the funds to fix up the old cabins and turn the place into a sort of rustic resort (best use of gambling winnings EVER!). Now the place is available for rent…whether you just want to stay in a cabin for the weekend, or overrun the entire place with naked chicks For more information, check out their website.
Aaaaanyhoo, we all rolled into Gold Point around 4pm and were greeted by the caretaker/owner, an extremely genial, personable character named Sheriff Herb Stone. He showed us to the cabins where we’d be staying — all old-timey 1800s wooden shacks that had been completely remodeled in rustic-chic on the inside. Most of the cabins have RV-style toilets and no running water, but Sheriff Stone keeps his own bathroom open 24 hours, so you can just walk across the gravel courtyard and use his facilities when needed, day or night (just remember to keep the screen door latched, so the cat doesn’t get out .
Sheriff Stone informed us that dinner was at 8pm, so we all unpacked, got settled in, and then headed out to shoot some photos before then. As luck would have it, the weather had turned cold and nasty just the day before…so it was kinda challenging to run around naked looking carefree and blissful when your headlights were on painful hi-beam and your twat was an icicle. But, it’s all part of modeling…so I sucked it up and did my best! The photographers had brought a bunch of cool flowy white lace-type dresses and flannel shirts and stuff, so we weren’t TOTALLY nude, anyway
After shooting photos for a couple hours, we headed back to our cabins and changed into warmer clothes — one model even put on her Tinkerbell footie pajamas! Then we headed over to the saloon for dinner. THIS SALOON IS ONE OF THE MOST BAD ASS PLACES I HAVE EVER BEEN!!! Chock-a-block full of old-timey western paraphernalia and antiques, but also packed with a crowd of weekend warriors and rednecks, all of whom were there for a dirtbike trail ride the next day. What can I say…..
We stayed in the saloon for HOURS, eating, drinking, partying and boozing. The good Sheriff kept us well-plied with homebrewed Apple Pie schnapps, plus they have a fully-stocked bar with just about any liquor you can imagine (well, they probably don’t have my beloved, liberal-elitist Campari….but just about everything else). After a few drinks, the wood-burning stove got us gals kind of warm and toasty, so before you could say “wonderhussy” we were all nekkid, posing for photos with Sheriff Stone and Walt the bartender, as a million redneck cellphones captured the moment. GOOOOOOD TIMES!
Now, the photographers intended for us all to get up early and do some sunrise shooting, so I kinda kept an eye on the clock — I *HATE* getting up early, but if I’m being paid to do a job, well then by golly I’ll do it. So as the hour grew later and the party went on, I started getting antsy. I need my beauty sleep, ya know! Around 11pm or so we all finally said goodnight, and headed back to our cabins. Two of my fellow models professed an inability to sleep in late (?!?!?!), so it was agreed that those two would shoot first, at 7:30am. The other girl and I would meet everyone at breakfast, around 9am. Whew!
Thus relieved of our sunrise duty, my fellow late-sleeper and I decided to head back out to the campfire at one of the rednecks’ RV, where a few dirtbikers and fossil-hunters were hanging out, swapping stories and bullshitting. They were more than happy to see us amble over, and welcomed us into their circle, plying us with more apple pie booze and whatever else we wanted to drink! If there’s one thing I love in this world, it’s a campfire. If there’s another thing, it’s rednecks with booze. YAY!! We stayed up til all hours of the night, drinking and bullshitting and getting into political debates (I had to defend Obama to these right-wingers, don’t ya know). It was all in good spirit, and a really good time.
Around 2:30am I decided I better crawl into bed, so I bid adieu to the rednecks and headed for the cabin I was sharing with the other gal. I was sleeping in a loft bed, reached by a ladder over the main bed…but when I entered our cabin, I found that one of the other models had borrowed my pipe!!!!! You probably know that I have TERRIBLE insomnia, and cannot sleep without my legally prescribed medical marijuana — what to do?! I didn’t feel like traipsing outdoors over to the other cabin, and waking the other girls up in my search for my pipe. So I ripped a sheet of paper from my notebook, and rolled a half-assed joint. It didn’t work very well at ALL, and I spent a miserable night dozing fitfully in my loft as the other chick snoozed peacefully (with her naked boobs splayed out shamelessly, haha) below me.
Around 7am I couldn’t take it anymore, so I got up and climbed down the ladder, and went over to Sheriff Stone’s cabin to wash up. I had forgotten my toothbrush, so had to fake-brush my teeth with my finger (blecccchhh….I *HATE* doing that), but after I splashed a little cold water on my face I was good to go. I slapped on some makeup, and then ran into the two photographers out in the desert, shooting landscapes — they were too nice to bother the other models, who were still slumbering peacefully!! WTF! Have you ever heard of such nice photographers? These guys were AWESOME!
The other girls finally got up, and we all headed back to the saloon for a big old greasy breakfast…then went back out for more photos. That ghost town is like Disneyland for photographers!! Rusty old buildings everywhere, with antique cars and farm equipment and all kinds of fun stuff laying around — all of it free to shoot on! I’m telling you, it’s a photographer’s DREAM!
Luckily, one of the ghost town inhabitants (some people do live out there…it’s only 3 hours from Vegas and 1 hour from Tonopah) was more than willing to act as photo assistant, bringing us water and food and whatever we needed as we made our art. “Stranger” was a sunburned old ex-outlaw biker who had been “saved” by Jesus back in the day, and was now devoted to a life of good deeds and restoring one of the old cabins in Gold Point. Before his conversion, Stranger led a very full and colorful life, including stints as an interior designer and a model — he was even offered a gig as the Marlboro Man, but due to ”other projects” had to turn them down (!!). Now he bides his time restoring one of the old cabins in Gold Point, as well as doing construction jobs on buildings in nearby Tonopah and Goldfield…but despite his busy schedule, he somehow found the time to offer his assistance at every turn to a group of 4 naked models. Amazing!
After shooting til about 1 or 2pm, we packed up for the drive back to Vegas. I had to be at work by 6pm (BOOOO!), so I felt like the party pooper of the bunch, since we were all having so much fun that we probably could have shot for another week, at least. DAMN WORK! We packed all our bags, said our emotional farewells to Sheriff Stone, blonde saloon mistress Brenda, bartender Walt and of course Stranger, the solicitous biker — who told us in all seriousness that if any of us EVER, and I mean EVER, were in any trouble in our lives, we should find a way to get ahold of him, and he would help us. You see, he has an army of fellow ex-outlaw bikers at his beck and call…so if we ever felt like we were in trouble, we were to get ahold of him, and between him, his girlfriend and the army of outlaws, they would take care of it. Awww….good to know! Thanks, Stranger!!
On the way back, we stopped just outside of Beatty, where a strip club/brothel called Bikinis squats in the desert south of town. The entire wall facing the highway is painted with 20-foot-tall letters spelling out “N U D E G I R L S,” so we just had to stop for a photo op! There was only one woman on duty at the time, a leathery old blonde in a black evening gown and paste jewelry, with a squeaky icky-girly voice, but she and the club manager welcomed us in and even bandaged my toe for me, after I stubbed it viciously on some sharp evil deserty plant in my naked glee. D’OH!!!
We made it back to the Hard Rock in Vegas around 5:57 pm, and I was supposed to be in the photo lab at Caesars by 6pm. DOUBLE D’OH!!! I raced across town and got to work just in the nick of time, managing to shove my throbbing, bleeding toe into some crusty old flats I keep in my locker for just that reason But I’m pleased to report, I did an EXCEPTIONAL job that night, selling an extraordinary dollar amount of photos! (That still didn’t keep me from getting a call from the boss…he bitched me out the next day for not collecting enough email addresses from my customers. You just can’t fuckin’ win!!!)
Aaaaaaaaaanyhoo, I was TOTALLY EXHAUSTED after that adventure, but had another photo shoot the very next day, with a genial Norwegian photographer from Trondheim, Norway…an ancient, frostbitten little burg north of the Arctic circle where I have actually been myself!!! (I went on a cruise up the Norwegian coastline once.) So it was back out into the desert for me! My toe was still kinda bloody and crusty, but had mostly healed over until I foolishly BONKED it into an old pipe that was half-hidden in the sand. TRIPLE D’OH!!!!!! Nevertheless, we had a great time and he was a very nice man. In addition to the usual artistic nudes, he had me pose with a bottle of this Norwegian orange soda called “Solo,” and said he plans to post the photo on their Facebook page. LOL!
I got a small break the next day (well, I had a gynecologist’s appointment…if you wanna call THAT a break), but then Tuesday it was back out to the desert AGAIN, this time with a photographer I met at, of ALL places, the Red Rooster swingers’ club!!!! LOL!!!!! It just goes to show, you never know who you’ll meet anywhere you go!!! I was there back in May or June with my friend Phil Connors and another girl, and I remember as I was sitting by the porno mag racks, flipping thru Hustler, I struck up a conversation with a man who professed to be a photographer. At the time, I thought he was just some perv blowing smoke up my ass…but come to find out, he’s actually an accomplished photographer, and a very cool dude. We had a great conversation about the Sex Pistols and the early NYC punk scene, all while shooting fabulous art nudes out in the desert by Lake Mead. FANTASTIC!
Aside from kooky conceptual costumed stuff, art nudes are my favorites types of photos to shoot. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll shoot whatever pays my bills — “Playboy” style, fetish, cheesecake, whatever. But classical art nudes are my favorite. I like the funky, athletic poses and the chance to show off my fabulous muscle tone. I spend all that fuckin’ time in the gym…might as well show it off!
Now, speaking of photo shoots…you may remember me mentioning a month or so ago how I shot with a “revolutionary new product” that was “sure to take the foot fetish world by storm.” Well, I am pleased to announce that the inventor has FINALLY given me the okay to tell you what this fabulous product is! It’s a stripper shoe — you know, one of those 7-inch heels with the giant platform — that has a POCKET PUSSY embedded in the sole!!!!! Yes that’s right — now you can take your love of shoes to a whole new level, with your very own removable Fleshlight embedded in the sole of a sexxxy 7-inch platform heel. Even better, the pocket pussy VIBRATES…and the vibration speed is controlled by the wearer pressing her big toe on a hidden control button on the insole! F*A*B*U*L*O*U*S, no?!!!!! The shoe retails for a shockingly affordable $250, so if you like shoes, check it out: SunsetLadies.com. The inventor got the idea while hanging out in a San Antonio strip club one night, and noticed one of the strippers grinding her foot into some poor shlub’s crotch (at his request). After the guy left, the inventor asked the stripper what all that was about….and thus learned about shoe fetish, and then came up with the idea for the shoe (or so he says). Hah!!!! I *love* shit like that!!
Now, finally…I’ve been working so much lately I haven’t had much time to cultivate any wants or needs, but I DID fixate on something recently that is now at the top of my “Must-Have ” list: a pair of customized leather cowboy boots!!! I’m not really much of a cowboy boot wearer in my day-to-day life (they make my legs look stumpy and short), but an acquaintance of mine happens to be a custom bootmaker in Idaho, and he and his wife recently pitched me on the idea of making me a FABULOUS custom pair of WonderHussy cowboy boots!!!! His wife says she even drew up a design for me, on pink and white leather, with dice and showgirls and “WONDER HUSSY” hand-tooled in fabulous leather. O…M…G!!!!! I have never been seized with lust for a material object so much in my LIFE! I have never owned any article of clothing, shoes or purse that cost more than $100, so I feel really bad about wanting $900 boots… but what the fuck?! He normally charges even more! And I just LOVE the idea of stomping into the saloon at Gold Point, NV one fine day…clad in absolutely nothing but a bush and my Wonderhussy boots…sidling up to the bar, plopping my naked ass on a barstool, kicking my hand-tooled heels up on the bar and ordering a tall, frosty Apple Pie shooter from Walt the bartender. What do you say, pardner?!!!! Let’s do it!!!
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