The Literary Death-Match and the Yoni Massage

262155 2143767518791 1384336566 2466475 2360104 n 300x199 The Literary Death Match and the Yoni MassageMy apologies… I haven’t been doing anything scurrilous or titillating lately because I’ve been engaged in a literary death match.

Back around Christmas, my friend Mojave Phonebooth from challenged me to a literary duel. We’ve both been working on books for a looooooooooong time…well, he has anyway; I’ve just been thinking about and meaning to write a memoir about my crazy Vegas adventures for a looooooooooooooong time. But every time I sit down to actually write it, I totally choke!

It’s a bizarre phenomenon. I can bang away at blog posts all the livelong day, without ever running out of stuff to talk about. But when I sit down to “WRITE A BOOK,” I get hung up. Too much pressure!263630 2143767638794 1384336566 2466476 2278518 n 199x300 The Literary Death Match and the Yoni Massage

And…honestly, I do have an overwhelmingly extensive collection of witty and salacious anecdotes. How to cram them all in? And in what order?! It just seems hopeless.

Also, it’s hard to write about My Fabulous Adventures when More Fabulous Adventures keep getting in the way! I don’t want to miss out anything, ya know? I’m burning the candle at both ends, already!

Well, now I’m shopping around for a 3-ended candle, because Mojave Phonebooth and I agreed to a contract, back around New Year’s, that we would each finish a first draft of our respective books by June 30. If one party doesn’t finish his/her draft…that party must attend a church of the winner’s choosing, EVERY SUNDAY for EIGHT WEEKS! Moreover, it must be eight consecutive weeks at the same church, so that the congregants all get to know ya and start bringin’ ya casseroles and tryin’ to save ya from the degenerate life of a nude model. Ya heard?!!!!

264500 2143767238784 1384336566 2466473 5211503 n 199x300 The Literary Death Match and the Yoni MassageNow, I know Mojave Phonebooth is just the hard-assed type of fucker to hold someone to a deal like that. And I’ve intended alllllllll along to start writing sometime in June, because I’m a better last-minute crammer. Plus, if I’m rushing, I won’t have any time for self-doubt and forty rewrites of the first sentence.

Still, I should have started a little earlier. Like I said, though…life got in the way! How could I pass up a fabulous Harley trip to Arizona? Or a photoshoot at the legendarily fabulous Vegas Vision Studios???

I shot at Vegas Vision with the owner, Bobby Deal. When I first started modeling, waaaaaaaay back in 2008, I once modeled for a lighting seminar there. I was a totally green model, so didn’t really know what I was doing, and haven’t shot there since. Meanwhile, I was sort of a modeling protege of this other photographer who had bad blood with Vegas Vision, and Bobby Deal was for some reason his arch-nemesis. So we didn’t really mix much.

260565 2143767358787 1384336566 2466474 7478919 n 199x300 The Literary Death Match and the Yoni Massage

I loooove bringing up various photographers I’ve shot with to other photographers I’m shooting with…most of them give these sort of snarky, back-handed compliments, like, “Oh, you shot with that guy? His work is really improving…” Or sometimes they just flat-out diss the other guy: “I heard he was a pervert. Did he try to grab you?”

For the record, I’ve only been molested by a photographer once…that was sort of semi-mutual. It was this hippy-dippy artsy type down in Santa Cruz, CA. Halfway through the shoot, he said my legs looked dry, so please let him put some lotion on them. OK, sure.

So as he’s lotioning my legs… and thighs… and ass…he starts telling me all about how he’s a Tantric Massage practitioner, and how the body has Seven Sacred Chakras, and that the Most Holiest of all the Sacred Chakras is the Yoni…aka the TWAT!

Sure as sugar, he was soon massaging my Yoni!!! He asked me if what he was doing made me uncomfortable, to which I replied “Yes!” To his credit, he laid off, apologizing, and we continued with the shoot….and got some BAD-ASS photos out of it! They are among some of my all-time favorite photos, but I won’t post any here to preserve the identity of The Yoniator.

I don’t know why I give a fuck about preserving his identity, though — I ran into him at Burning Man one year, and he took some awesome photos of me and my sister on his fancy-schmancy camera (he’s one of those guys at Burning Man!!!). But when I emailed him, months later, to ask if he’d send me the pics…he replied back that he was a very busy man with a lot of photos to go through, and that if I were to make a “donation,” he might be inspired to dig through them for mine. SERIOUSLY?! I should blow your cover right here and now, pervert! I got your Chakra right here!!!!

260195 2143767078780 1384336566 2466472 4650359 n 199x300 The Literary Death Match and the Yoni MassageWell anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, at Vegas Vision Studios. The pics came out great (this blog’s pics are all from that shoot), and it was a particularly fortuitously-timed shoot because I had finally put the finishing touches on my home-made showgirl costume. It ended costing me a little over $100 in supplies, because I couldn’t figure out a way to make a sequined thong, and had to go to a stripperwear store and buy a ready-made bottom.

As a somewhat gross aside, I went into this little boutique on West Sahara Ave. that sells custom-made “dancewear” (what they politely call stripperwear). The little old man working there advised me to try on a few pair to see which fit best, but I told him I couldn’t as I wasn’t wearing any underwear (commando being my preferred mode in the summertime).

“It’s OK honey, I have a tissues in there, you can a try them on!”

WTF! I guess it makes sense — you can’t really try on a G-string if you’re wearing underwear. But…yuck!!!! And by the way, I think he meant for the Kleenex to be used as a defensive tactic, and not as offense…if you know what I mean!

Anyhoo, the costume came out great, and I am now available to be hired as a showgirl for your party or event. Rates are negotiable…email me for more info at!

But there will no showgirling at least for the next 6 days — remember, I only have until midnight on June 30th to submit this rough draft of my book! So far I’ve been writing about 4,000 words a day, which puts me on track for a 40,000-word novella. There was no word-count stipulation in my agreement with Mojave Phonebooth, so I suppose I could have cheesed out and written a pamphlet…but I’m not like that.

Besides…..I’ve had enough adventures to fill the entire fuckin’ Oxford English Deictionary!!!

Better get writing…

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About wonderhussy

I am a foul-mouthed, flat-chested bon vivant and adventuress who likes to curse, drink, smoke and run around nude, and I refuse to kow-tow to the bourgeois moral code of the day. I’ve lived in Vegas over ten years, and have a few stories to tell. I roll around town in a truck stocked with a Breathalyzer and a swizzle stick, a spare pair of panties and two stun guns. Don’t fuck with me!
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2 Responses to The Literary Death-Match and the Yoni Massage

  1. Bobby Deal says:

    Great write up and thanks for the mention. I must have missed this when you wrote it back in June. So tell me, how was church?

    • wonderhussy says:

      I wouldn’t know…..I didn’t have to go!! I banged out 40,000 words, only to find out I was mistaken, and the contest actually ended at the end of JULY, not June! Once I found out I had an extra month, I slacked off again for 3 weeks…then banged out another 40,000 words or so, just in time. Crazy!! But no church :)

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