Where I last left off, I was trying to decide if I should stay in Vegas and do this weird Japanese documentary, or go to Baja California, Mexico, for some kooky off-road race with a guy I barely know. Unfortunately for this blog, I made the responsible decision…to stay in Vegas. FORTUNATELY for this blog, however, a lot of freaky fuckin’ shit went down while I was here!
Now you might wonder why someone with a name like Wonderhussy would ever make a lame, responsible decision about anything. I’ll tell you.
The guy who invited me, as I mentioned, is someone I barely know — I only met him a couple weeks ago, at the Gilley’s mudwrestling thing I participated in. But just because I don’t know someone is no reason to turn down a trip to Baja!
The real trouble is, he’s basically the male version of me: he lives a free and easy life of fun, travel and adventure, financing his fun by working summers at some über-bourgeois swanky golf course in Oregon. Then he spends the rest of the year snowboarding and exploring the desert. No kids, no responsibility…just fun, 24/7/365. We’ll call him Supertramp (since he’s obsessed with Alexander Supertramp a/k/a Chris McCandless, from the book/movie Into the Wild).
Well, all of that is well and good, and doesn’t bother me a bit. More concerning was the fact that this guy flips the fuck out when he drinks hard liquor!! I learned this the hard way, the first night I met him — some redneck at the bar in Gilley’s was buying him drinks all night, and the three of us went out after the rasslin’ match was over. The redneck bought us godawful piña coladas from Señor Frog’s at the Treasure Island, and then invited us over to the Mirage for some petroleum industry party that he was in town for. We followed him over there, but meanwhile I was still dragging my little pink suitcase around with me, with all my rassling costume stuff in it. Me and the redneck had to pee, so we left my bag at the party with ST (Supertramp)…but when we got back, ST had flipped out and bailed, leaving my bag stranded! FUCK! That bag had my electric vagina in it — anyone could have stolen it!!! Dammit, I worked long and hard on that vagina!!!
ST’s disappearing act was followed by a barrage of extremely derogatory text messages, so I pretty much wrote him off as a boozer. But the next day he apologized profusely, so I gave him another chance. We went out to the desert a couple days later for a mini road trip/exploration session, and it was totally fabulous — he’s a super cool dude with the same interests as me, so it was a great day. We went out by this lame-ass fake ghost town called Nelson, where come to find out, if you drive way out in the canyons, there’s this awesome area of giant boulders and stuff that is just begging to be a photo shoot location! It was fan-fuckin’-tastic — a great day. At the end of it, I had decided to go to Baja with him and his friend, and was really looking forward to it. UNTIL….
The next day, we made plans to all meet up downtown and discuss the particulars of the trip — me, him and the other guy who was going. I was out on a photo shoot all day, but the plan was to meet up afterward, around 8pm. I texted him a few times, but no answer…so just gave up and went home to go to bed early. I was fried from my day in the sun at Big Dune, anyway, so I wasn’t that bummed…but I did think it was pretty rude to stand me up like that. I get stood up A LOT, though, so I try not to take it personally (yes…A LOT of people stand me up, shockingly!).
Anyhoo, I was at home just getting ready to take off my makeup and stuff, when I got a random Facebook message on my page from some random chick from L.A.: “CALL ME! Your friend ST lost his phone; he’s wasted and stranded and needs help!” WTF! I called her, and come to find out, ST had gotten so fucked up that his friends had ditched him downtown, where he was semi-passed out at a bar in the new Downtown Grand hotel, incoherent and unable to get home. Apparently he had just enough brains to tell this random couple he met at the bar to look up Wonderhussy on Facebook and get ahold of me that way.
I sacked up, drove down there, thanked the random L.A. chick, picked his alcohol-reeking-ass up, and asked him where I should take him. Between drunken insults and claims that someone had slipped him LSD, he managed to direct me to his friends’ house way up in the ‘burbs, where after much arguing I deposited his stinky ass and then drove home. I’m not ashamed to admit I bawled my eyes out on the way — I’d been having a shitty time lately, and had really been looking forward to a Mexican getaway, however spurious. But just like everything in my life, I’m apparently the only one who has my shit together. D’OH!!!
Well, the next morning I guess he found his phone, because there were more profuse apologies, and an invitation to join him and his Baja friends at the outdoor swap meet that afternoon, so we could finally hash out the trip details. Well, by then I had already decided (with much sadness) NOT to go anywhere with this fool…but I did agree to meet them at the swap meet, since I love that place so much, and I needed to buy a Lucha Libre mask anyway. We met up and he and his friends were super cool…but once I make up my mind, it’s over. I told him I wasn’t going with them, and he was pretty salty, but oh well.
Now, you may be wondering why I needed a Lucha Libre mask — well, I’ll tell you! It occurred to me that the photos I took in my electric vagina at Big Dune, in this gold spandex bodysuit, looked a little like a Mexican wrestler — all I needed was a mask, and I could become La Panocha Eléctrica, the most fearsome Lucha Libre rassler of them all!!!! I scored an awesome gold wrestler mask at the swap meet, and am working on customizing it with sequined lightning bolts and whatnot.
Incidentally, if you’ve never been to the Broadacres Swap Meet in Vegas — GO!!! It’s the most amazing, bizarre-O place this side of Tijuana — acres and acres of booths selling shitty clothes and old crap, with religious figurines and cheap jewelry thrown in for good measure. 98% of the population is Latino, and there’s always good tuba music playing and stuff like that. It’s one of my all-time favorite places in the world!!!
So anyway, now that I had decided to stay in Vegas, I was pretty disappointed and pissed off, but whatever — I sacked up and got on with my life. ST sent me a salty text or two on his way out of town, letting me know what I was missing out on — but I already knew, motherfucker.
I was so pissed off about the whole scenario that I figured it was time for a change. I’d been in a funk since I got sick in mid-December, and to make matters worse, I was still nowhere near making my monthly nut for February. I couldn’t get a break to save my life! It was time to change that shit, so I did what I always do in that situation…I bought a magic candle to break the spell
There’s this super freaky olde-tyme Magick Shoppe down the street from where I live, called Bell Book & Candle. Please take a moment and read my Yelp review of the place — it’ll help you understand why I go here. Anyway, whenever I’m in a funk that lasts more than a day or two, I head here and have the wizard make me a Jinx-Breaking candle — one of those 7-day jar candles that you light and leave burning until the spell is gone. It always works, so the day my friends left for Baja, I went over and got a new one. And guess what? IT WORKED!!
Thanks to the magickal healing powers of the candle, my business started picking up right away, the moment I lit it. I made my February nut with a few hundo to spare, and the gigs kept piling up, on into March…which is off to a fabulous start
Most of the gigs were the usual photo shoots — I even drove all the way down to Kingman, AZ for an all-day shoot at the Holiday Inn Suites down there, LOL (video below…lots of pancake-eatin’ and twat-flashin’, FYI).
But there were also a couple fetish shoots that really stood out! One day, I finally got around to shooting with the fabulous Kayla-Jane Danger and her foot fetish site, MyDollParts.com. This bitch is a trip! Apparently she’s a very business-savvy little minx, as she runs her own full-time fetish empire and has a closet FULL of spike-heeled platform Christian Louboutins and the like…all paid for by her immense fanbase (one of her fans even gave her a new dining room table set, LOL). I kinda felt like a loser shooting with her, since she seems to have it all figured out so well and I’m still bumbling along doing gig work…but she was super cool and very simpatico, and I give her MAJOR bonus points for reading a David Sedaris book in the bathtub while I licked her feet for this one scene we shot. (David Sedaris, if you’re reading this…..you need to see that video!! It’s a riot!!!) In fact, she even sent David Sedaris a fan letter one time…and he responded!!
Anyway, the shoot was really fun and easy, and basically consisted of me licking her feet, and her licking mine for this one ballet-school scenario. And while I was licking her perfectly pedicured, high-arched little size 7.5 feet, I noticed something interesting — her feet looked familiar!! Then I remembered that back in December, I did a shoot out in the San Francisco Bay Area at this guy’s apartment…and he had a full-size silicone replica of one of Kayla-Jane’s feet on his bookshelf!!! Apparently he was one of her biggest fans, LOL. Small world!
Then another day, I did an even better shoot for TaylorMadeClips.com, run by the fabulously incomparable Ms. Taylor St. Claire, an ex-porn actress who turned to running her own fetish empire after she got out of the porn biz and quit giving a flying fuck. I shot with her once back in 2009 and had a FUCKING BLAST, but for whatever reason lost touch with her until now. Let me tell you something, I have very few heroines in this world, but Taylor St. Claire is one of them — she is just so fucking cool! She lives in a huge, ramshackle old 1970s house full of rescued stray dogs, and pads around filming everything in pajamas and slippers, no makeup, with her luscious ginormous tits barely restrained by a spaghetti-strap cami top. She has a sort of blowzy, don’t-give-a-fuck manner that I found immensely appealing…I love this woman!
Initially, we were to film an overeating clip where I would pig out and get “fatter and fatter” (Taylor has her special FX tricks, don’t you know)…so she asked me what I liked to eat. Now, I like to eat cake, pie, ice cream and cookies…..but in the interest of my waistline, I said “Umm, soup or fruit or veggies or something healthy would be best.” LAME! Thankfully, she had booked another model for the shoot — a fabulous BBW starlet by the name of Kimberly Marvel, well-known in the fetish world for her luscious curves and ginormous tits and ass. So now the plan was, I would simply feed pie to Kimberly, as she grew bigger and bigger!
Let me tell you, this shoot was a dream come true. I sat on the bed beside Kimberly, who was all propped up on pillows, wearing a gorgeous purple velour stretchy tracksuit, and fed her bites of this delicious peanut butter pie. But this wasn’t just any pie! It was a magic pie, guaranteed to make her gain 200 pounds by sundown!! And boy howdy, did it work. Her stomach, ass and hips swelled up to gigantic proportions — if you want to see it, you’ll just have to download the clip here (not sure it’s been posted yet, but plenty of other fabulous overeating clips to entertain you there in the meantime).
Meanwhile, between takes we were all eating that fucking pie — me and Taylor and her assistant/prop guy, Fred Flate. It was delicious!!! I fucking LOVE peanut butter pie…we all beat that thing into the ground!
After that first clip, we shot another one in Taylor’s creepy Mad Scientist Laboratory set — Kimberly and I played friends who had come to see the famed Dr. Fred Flate for a cosmetic procedure — I was too skinny, so Kimberly wanted him to suck out some of her fat and put it into my tits and belly. Well, kooky fucking Dr. Flate came out (I can’t even describe it, you have to see this clip), and hooked us both up to this weird machine, then left the room. And that’s when shit got fucked-up! I won’t give away all the details, but let’s just say the procedure went horribly wrong, and I got much fatter than I bargained for. IT WAS AMAZING!!
The last clip we shot was a superhero wrestling thing, where Kimberly (as supervillain Fat Cat) and me (WonderHussy) fought each other before being devoured by a giant, furry monster. This one was a lot of fun too, except that Kimberly got carried away in the fight scene and accidentally punched me in the jaw for reals, so my face was sore for a couple days. But other than that, it was an amazingly fun shoot, and an awesome day. I <3 Taylor St. Claire…and Kimberly Marvel and Fred Flate too, for that matter!!
Anyway, after all of that, there was also the little matter of the Japanese TV show that had me in such a tizzy about the Baja trip in the first place! Here’s how that went down.
So this Japanese documentary crew contacted me, asking if they could film me busking on the Strip in my showgirl costume as part of a travelogue they were filming about roadtripping from Vegas to Bryce Canyon (you know how the Japanese love cosplay). The only lame thing was, it was a “family” show, so I couldn’t wear my real busking outfit (the marijuana showgirl)…or even my new Electric Vagina costume, which I am thinking might make an awesome busking opportunity come summer
Instead, I had to put on my regular-ass old traditional showgirl costume, and we shot for about three hours: first, they “encountered” me at this fantastic old costume store in downtown Vegas, Williams Costume Co., where I “invited” them back to my house, to see my costume collection. OMG, I’m here to tell you, you haven’t LIVED until you’ve had a Japanese film crew in your closet. It was amazing!!!
After they got enough footage at my house, we cruised down to the Strip and they shot an hour or so of me standing around in front of Ballys, hustling tourists for cash. It was embarrassing because business was really slow, for several reasons: one, it was windy as fuck, and my headdress and stuff kept blowing around. Two, it was mid-afternoon, so no one was really drunk enough yet to pony up cash. And three, there are already about 500 showgirls lining the Vegas Strip, posing for photos with tourists….so me in my shitty homemade costume didn’t stand a chance!! That’s why I made the marijuana showgirl costume in the first place — to stand out from the fucking crowd!!!!!
But whatever — it was TV, so they made it work, I ended up making a few bucks, and then they paid me and gave me an awesome souvenir Japanese toenail clipper as a parting gift (!!!). They were super nice people, and I’m really glad I did it — but I didn’t have much time to dilly-dally, since I was already running late for my next adventure — the MOST AMAZING adventure in a week FULL of amazing adventures!!!
You may recall last year around this time, I drove out to the remote desert near Twentynine Palms to visit these kooky German performance artists at their winter headquarters, a crazy sort of Mad Max-style desert compound made of plywood and barbwire in this weird, ultra-remote part of the desert called Wonder Valley. Well, this year they invited me back — and this year, they were bringing this amazing German singer with them: Käpt’n Rummelsnuff!!! And best of all, the little local dive bar in Wonder Valley, The Palms Restaurant, happened to be having a big music festival that night….and Rummelsnuff was able to snag a spot on the bill!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There was no way I was missing Rummelsnuff’s U.S. debut, so as soon as the Japanese film crew dropped me back at my house, I packed up my stuff and hauled ass for Wonder Valley. It’s about a three-hour drive from Vegas, through some very remote country — you basically have to cut through the middle of the Mojave National Preserve, which is a fabulous place, but it was pitch black for most of my drive, so I just drove as fast as the pot-holed road would allow, in order to get to The Palms in time for the show.
I made it just in time to change into my slutty cowgirl chaps from Sturgis — Rummelsnuff’s First Mate, the guy I called Franz in last year’s blog, told me they’d beat up a thrift shop in Twentynine Palms for performance costumes, so I figured I’d better dress up too. And then the music began!!
There were about 5 bands playing at The Palms that night, and every single one was AMAZING! I can’t believe all the talent in that little godforsaken corner of the Earth — it was really incredible. There were a few artsy hipster types in attendance, but there were also a lot of good old-fashioned salt-of-the-Earth desert types there, too — picture a dusty desert dive bar in the middle of nowhere, and that’s the kind of crowd it was. Sort of Mos-Eisley-Cantina-meets the Bagdad Cafe — WEIRD! Rummelsnuff and Franz were really nervous to go on, fearing the locals weren’t ready for their particular brand of craziness….but guess what?!?!? THEY KILLED IT!!!! Here’s a brief video I shot of their performance:
The crowd ate it up!!! It was truly amazing, and they did five songs to very enthusiastic applause, hooting and hollering. YAY!!!!!! I swear to you, I love that fucking place. After Rummelsnuff, some other acts came on, including this one amazingly incredible guy who played THE MOST AMAZING version of Pink Floyd’s “Us and Them” on a hammered dulcimer:
I swear, I’ve never heard anything like it!!! I’ve been on a Pink Floyd kick lately, and plus I was high and pretty buzzed, so it was really transformational for me. And as if that wasn’t enough, the last act was the headliner — the Field Hollars, an AMAZING two-man band that had the most incredible energy level of anything I’ve EVER SEEN! It was basically just a cherub-faced redheaded drummer and a crazed singer/guitarist in hillbilly overalls…but they dredged up a well of intensely fierce passion from somewhere that had the entire fucking room going CRAZY!!! The whole scene was like the end of Cheech & Chong’s Up In Smoke — I’m pretty sure everyone in there was baked (I know I was), and everyone was getting the fuck DOWN! IT WAS AMAAAAAAZING! Here’s a brief clip:
After the show ended, we were all totally spent. I hung out in the backyard for awhile at this bonfire, talking to some of the locals — apparently they have bigger music festivals down there on occasion, and people camp out in the desert behind the restaurant, where there was another stage set up. What a magical place!!!
Then after awhile, I followed Rummelsnuff and his First Mate back to the Cat Ranch (a/k/a the Wonder Valley Rave Shack), where we had a nice relaxing soak in the neighbor lady’s Jacuzzi, under the amazing desert stars, talking over the amazing night’s events and smoking some more weed. Incredible! Around midnight, we got out and drove back over to the Cat Ranch and got ready for bed. Franz thought I might be more comfortable staying in the neighbor’s guest cottage, because it had indoor plumbing and running water…but I preferred to sleep in the Cat Ranch’s fabulous guest house, out in the back of their compound — rustic, with no amenities…but very cozy nonetheless!! Fuck indoor plumbing!!!!
Despite the fact that I was super cozy and had a sweet setup there, I suffered a miserable sleepless night due to my shitty insomnia, and finally gave up around 10am, got dressed in this fabulous psychedelic robe I just fashioned, and went out to join the boys for breakfast in the main cabin. We sat on the porch in the desert morning sun and had coffee, avocados and mangoes (Rummelsnuff is a health fiend), and I wanted nothing more than to stay all day…but alas, I had a photo shoot booked that night in Vegas at 6pm, so I had to leave them around noon. Before I went, I gave them some magic mushrooms as a parting gift….and then drove off through the sagebrush, leaving the two of them tripping balls in the desert sunshine. Lovely!!!!
I drove back to Vegas through the Mojave National Preserve, and it was beautiful — it had just rained, so the smell of the creosote bushes was extra-intense, and the skies were sort of overcast and magical. I LOVE THE DESERT!!!!!!
But before long, I was back in fucking Vegas, buck-ass naked in some dumb hotel room at the MGM with one of my fellow Goddess Collective models, pretending to hump each other for the pleasure of yet another photographer. The Oscars were on in the background, and it was a very surreal scene..in a totally different way than the previous night’s scene. But the bills have to be paid, and I need gas money to go back to Wonder Valley next weekend…..so it was totally worth it!!!!!
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