Wonderhussy

Tomorrow I am headed for South Dakota, to work the big biker rally in Sturgis. Sturgis has been on my bucket list for quite some time, so I figured it was high time I knocked it off…and thanks to my beloved craigslist, I even found a way to make some cash while I’m out there. I’ll be working as a shot girl at the Knuckle Saloon…so if you happen to be attending this fabulous event, come say how-do, willya??

Now, I’m not going out there expecting to get rich — I just need to recoup the cost of my plane ticket and the biker clothes I bought. But since I’ll basically be partying non-stop the rest of the entire month (Burning Man and a camping trip at Lake Tahoe with my family), I figure I better try and make my monthly expenses while I’m up there, too. So that means I need to make about $2,000 over the course of 6-7 days. Can it be done?

Last week, this chick I worked with filled my head with all these amazing stories about friends of hers who went up there every year, and came home with $10-20,000 cash (!!!!!), all of which got me in a real tizzy. But, those chicks were bartenders, and I’m just serving shots…so I’m not expecting all that. If I can just make my $2k, I’ll be over the moon! 🙂

When I originally signed up to work this event, I didn’t know anyone out there — I basically agreed to go out there with four random chicks I’d never met, and stay at some strange dude I met on craigslist’s condo. That’s me — a risk-taker! But, in the meantime, a couple of the original promo models bailed out and now these two chicks I know are going — so I won’t be totally on my own. One chick in particular is a solid friend I’ve worked with on and off, at various promotions, for years. She’s one of the hardest-core hustlers I know, so she’ll be a good motivation for me to get my ass in gear!

Aside from that, I know a few other random Vegas people who will be at the rally — another friend will be operating a zipline out at one of the campgrounds, and another chick I know will be dancing at one of the saloons. And my friend with the size-KKK

tits will be there as well — apparently she goes every year, just to party. I bet that bitch makes some serious coin!!

But anyway, all of that is all very well and good to look forward to…but the REAL thing I’m looking forward to is that TOMORROW, MY MONTH-LONG BOOZE FAST ENDS!

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

I planned it out very carefully so that the end of my fast coincided with my flight to South Dakota…and I can’t wait to order that first Bloody Mary. YUM!

What’s funny is, I expected to feel all fresh and clean and detoxed from not drinking all month…but the truth is, I feel weird! My sleep is a thousand times improved (thank you brain training; buy some today!!!), but other than that, I’m out of sorts. My skin broke out, my digestion is out of whack, and I’ve been irritable and melancholy all month long. I even gained a pound, despite the fact that my eating is as healthy as ever. I think I’m one of those people for whom alcohol, in moderate doses, is beneficial. That’s what I’m telling myself, anyway!!! 😀

But part of me did enjoy being sober…if only to prove I could do it. I have great willpower — I was surrounded by booze and weed this past week, but managed to stick to my guns. First, I was hired to do these sampling events at various liquor stores around town, pouring free shots of this delicious new girly liqueur that is so yummy I can only describe it as tasting like the jizz of Jesus, if He had eaten nothing but cinnamon toast for 40 days and 40 nights. It’s THAT good!!  I’ve been stuck pouring free shots of this delicious pap for all and sundry, but was unable to try even a drop myself. TORTURE!

Just being in a liquor store for an extended period was really hard for me — I freaking love those places, with all their fabulous colored bottles of exotic cordials and cremes and whatnot. And now I see they’ve even invented booze ice cream — some genius devised a recipe for Grasshopper, Brandy Alexander and Pink Squirrel-flavored ice creams!! I can’t wait to go buy some one of these days. It’s like $10 a pint, but still!!! When I get back from Sturgis, I’m buying a pint of Grasshopper and watching Mad Men all night long!!!!!

Anyways, working in a liquor store was hardly the least of my worries. Some friends also invited me to the pot industry tradeshow — yes, there’s a tradeshow for everything nowadays — so I suited up

in my Mary Jane costume and went down there to walk around and pose for pictures with attendees. I didn’t make much money — those stoners are cheap as fuck about tipping — but I did score some free swag…and I had plenty of offers to get high, all of which I had to turn down 🙁 I even got invited to this big tradeshow afterparty at some old-school mansion near downtown Vegas…but I didn’t bother going, because what was the point if I couldn’t smoke or even drink??? I was invited by this professional ukelele player I met at the tradeshow, who happens to be a teetotaler and who offered to hang with me and have sober fun, but….really? It was bad enough being around all those high people at the tradeshow — I never realized how annoying high people are, when you yourself aren’t!!!

But the worst thing I missed out on because of sobriety was this anti-alcohol PSA a friend got me cast in. You know those cheesy public service advisories like “This is Your Brain On Drugs,” etc? Well, it was one of those, only showcasing the perils of binge drinking among young women who “save” their calories by starving all day, so they can party hearty at night. It was a national ad, too — I was really stoked!! But come to find out, the whole idea of the shoot was that we would recite a line of dialogue, then the producers would feed us shots of booze, then we would repeat the line of dialogue — over and over and over! As we progressively got drunker and drunker, we would start to slur the line of dialogue more and more, showcasing the embarrassing effects of alkyhol.

Well, when I told them I couldn’t actually drink real booze… they axed me!!! Imagine that — fired from an anti-alcohol PSA for reason of sobriety!! I mean, really…have you ever heard of such irony?!!! As it happens, I guess I’m glad it didn’t work out, since the friend who had referred me told me they made them drink peppermint schnapps until they actually vomited….and yes, there was a puke cam in the toilet!!! So maybe this was for the best. But…damn! It would have been so funny to be in an anti-booze PSA! DAMN YOU, SOBRIETY!! You ruin everything!! I’m making my own PSA, against the evils of teetotaling!!!

Now, all of this isn’t to say I didn’t have any fun — I did go out and have some pretty good times with some friends who happen to be teetotalers themselves. My friend Fabian is one such non-drinker — he’s back in town, so one night we met up to go down andwatch The Karate Kid at the Cosmopolitan pool. Apparently, they’ve been doing this thing all summer long where they show movies on this giant screen outdoors on the pool deck — I can’t believe I never heard about it! Well, we went down there, but it turned out the movie was canceled that night because some stupid group of magnet school industry people had rented it out for a private party. D’oh!! We crashed their party, but I’ve also been on a strict diet lately so I couldn’t really eat anything but some radishes, though they did have a pretty sweet spread laid out (if all you magnet-school-donors could only see where your money is going — to sliders and mini cupcakes for all these K.I.P.P. assholes to much on)!!!

Since that party sucked ass, we left the Strip and headed back downtown, where we both live, to get some vegan ice cream at this new pizza parlor at the Plaza Hotel. The Plaza used to be a real Class-A dump (I loved it back then) — and it still basically is, only they spruced it up a bit and added some new restaurants, including this trendy new pizza place. I can’t vouch for the pizza — it’s pretentious and prohibitively expensive, something like $25 for a large pie — but I can say that their vegan ice cream is delicious!! We got chocolate-vanilla swirl soft serve, then got the hell out of that pretentious atmo to enjoy our dessert in the more interesting and less suffocating confines of the neighboring Greyhound Bus Depot.

OMG is THAT a place! We sat in the waiting area, watching all the crackheads and down-n-out travelers heading to places like Fort Wayne, Indiana and Lansing, Michigan (can you imagine how long it must take to get from Vegas to Indiana via Greyhound?!?!?!). The longer I sat there, the more ill at ease I got — and not because of all the scabrous crackheads around me, either; I felt bad to be sitting there watching them and basically mocking them like a snarky hipster. Like a hypocrite. But I can’t help it; ever since I was about 17 I’ve been fascinated with ghetto neighborhoods and weird, gross people. One of my ex-boyfriends called me out on it once, and I realized I like hanging out in those environs because they make me feel better about myself. I grew up semi-poor, and to this day I still feel like an outsider/loser…so being around people who are really poor outsiders makes me feel better about myself, in comparison. If I hang out around upscale intellectuals, I feel shitty…so sometimes I’d rather hang out at the Greyhound Bus Depot in Downtown Vegas. Sad, but true.

Anyhoo, on our way back to the car we noticed that the Plaza parking lot backs right up against the railroad tracks, and that a freight train was just sitting there, idling. It would have been so easy to jump onboard, ride all night, and wake up the next morning in Salt Lake City — but, as Fabian reminded me, we were ill-prepared for a journey like that, since we didn’t have a bottle of Jack or any playing cards on us at that moment. He’s seen The Gambler; he knows how this shit works!! But we decided to plan a little rail-riding expedition one of these days, so watch out!!!

Then another night, he invited me along to go see the comedian George Wallace, over at the Flamingo. His friend and him only had two comp tickets, but they sweet-talked the chick at the box office into letting me in, too — that place is really hard up for warm bodies, I can tell you that! The theater was only about 1/3 full, and who knows if any of them paid to get in. Now, I saw George Wallace back about 10 years ago, and he was a riot. Maybe this was just an off night, but it was kinda rough. His delivery was kinda slurred and he stumbled a lot, so it was hard to understand him sometimes — but he did make a few reeeeally inappropriate off-color jokes, and was unapologetic about it, so I give him props for that.

But the weird thing was, he only did comedy for like half the show. The other half, he kibbitzed with a bunch of ministers who “happened” to be in the audience. He asked all the preachers in the house to step up, and then the show turned from stand-up to Sunday Morning Coming Down, with all these preachers invited onstage to wail and moan. Next thing you know, the crowd was on their feet, swaying and holding their hands up to Praise Him…and it was just really weird. Then this one big fat preacher lady got up and sang, and everyone threw cash at her like we were at the Spearmint Rhino. SURREAL! If you want all the details, check out my Yelp review: http://www.yelp.com/biz/george-wallace-las-vegas#hrid:nuUVkTE1APB01LfC7ObFdw  Basically, I only recommend going if you’re on mushrooms!!!

Now, I also spent some time hanging with another teetotaling friend this week — a new acquaintance I met on the set of this local roundtable discussion group I filmed last month, a rocker dude who used to be in a famous metal band with one of the greatest guitarists of all time. He’s on the wagon now because he really tore shit up back in the day — I know, because he gave me a copy of his autobiography, and I’ve been reading it every morning as I sunbathe in the nude in my backyard. I’m here to tell you — that dude was an animal!! I’d be sober now, too, if I’d done everything he’s done — and I’m only halfway through the book!!!

Anyway, this guy lives down in Boulder City, a small town near the Hoover Dam on the outskirts of Vegas. Boulder City is noteworthy because it’s run by a Mormon cabal, doesn’t allow gambling, and basically looks down on Vegas like we’re its nasty whorey cousin to the north. Fuck you, BC!!!

Actually, Boulder City is a really cool little town with a lot of old buildings dating from the time they built the Dam, and I really like going down there. Well, now I can’t WAIT to go back, because my new rocker friend filled me in on all the freaky shit that’s going on behind the scenes. Apparently, there’s a haunted house for sale, where some high school principal’s daughter hanged herself or something from a tree in the front yard. Also, there’s this big old freaky hospital up on the hill, that’s mostly out of business as a hospital but still rents out rooms for regular people to live in!! They charge $400/month for a room, utilities included, AND you get all your meals for free in the old cafeteria. !!! I think that place is supposed to be haunted, too.

But the best thing going on in Boulder City is that none other than Sandy Nelson lives down there. Who the hell is Sandy Nelson, you ask?? He’s best known for playing drums on the famous surf classic “Wipeout,” but I know of him more from this old album I bought at Goodwill back in the day, “Sandy Nelson: Beat That #!!@*** Drum.” It’s a badass album and I listened to it quite a bit back in the day, so my plan is to try and get him to autograph it. Alas, however, they say that Sandy isn’t all there these days, and spends all his time digging a giant hole/tunnel/bomb shelter in his backyard with an old spoon and a coffee can!!! Far out, man — if you’ve ever seen the caliche we have in the ground out here, you know that’s no easy task!!!!!

Anyway, I made plans with my new friend to get together after my summer travels, and he’s gonna take me on a little tour of Boulder City and show me all the freaky sights. We’re even going to pretend to be interested in buying that haunted house, so we get a free tour…if it’s still for sale by then. Stay tuned!!!

Now, one last thing I did last week was a video shoot with this amazing Dominatrix by the name of Ms. Dana Kane. Ms. Kane is a no-nonsense type who does business out of a nondescript stucco condo in a blue-collar part of town not far from where I live. It’s amazing the shit that goes on behind these stucco walls in Vegas. Here, Ms. Kane beats the shit out of her private clients…and also shoots videos for her FemDom website, which was why I was there.

We did all these videos of me talking to the camera, extemporaneously spewing forth for 5-7 minutes with very little script, on a variety of themes. In the first clip, I played a sexy proctologist who is telling her patient exactly

how his impending rectal exam is going to go down: “First I’m going to have you bend over and spread your anus so I can insert my speculum into your rectum.” There were all these key words I was supposed to repeat, but other than that, it was basically free-form rambling — not that easy to do for 5-7 minutes, I tell you!

Then we did some clips where I was a naughty schoolgirl blackmailing her perverted teacher, and one where I was telling the camera how much I love having my toes sucked, and one where I foot-fucked a cherry pie. Mmmm-mmmmm,

good! I also popped a bunch of balloons naked, for good measure. If interested in such things, check out Ms. Dana Kane’s FemDom site…I don’t have the URL, but I’m sure it’s easily Googled. The NSA won’t mind!!!!!!!!!!!

Finally, be sure to follow me on Twitter and Facebook for live updates from Sturgis…I’m bound to run into some real freaks out there, and you really don’t want to have to wait to hear about it til I get back…do you?!?!?!?!?!?!?????

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