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15 May 2010


Paul McCaffree

i don't want to hear ur stripper violins no more, you don't have to, you have to lean on that no more. Talk of ur self, ur perspectives, not so much, all the time, bout the stupid, whining, violin songs.

chelsea g. summers

Oh, Paul, you poor, poor punctuation and grammar deprived man.

You're clearly a very bad reader--or merely terrible at trying to pen incendiary comments. You come off as someone too dim to understand my prose, my point or my tone. Toddle on. I'm sure you can find a writing composed of monosyllables, simple phonemes and short, declarative sentences that tells a single-level narrative in clear chronological order.

chelsea g.


Funny, where he heard violins, I heard a grand orchestral swell.
Thank you for writing this. I cannot imagine both the draws and dangers of being objectified put more juicily and brilliantly than this. :)


Oh thank CHRIST you're writing here more regularly. This piece was fantabulous. I also love objectification, and I love reading, and reading you write about objectification was like drinking a large, warm, alcoholic, and of course chocolate-tinged beverage. Yum.

Mike Philippe

I just read the comments and I love that I never have anything negative to post.


I just had to read the comments again. I am trying to imagine Chelsea saying that aloud to someone on the train or something. For some reason I would find that very pleasurable to watch.



Speaking as a long-time artists model, sometimes stripper, current sex industry participant, and always feminist, I can't say I've had the same experience. I certainly don't feel that my mind goes blank- but rather I feel constantly on with the urgent need to keep the situation under control and the other person under (consensual) illusion, and guard my own boundaries with a metaphorical spiky club (as they are likely to be crossed.) For me, sex-related work is an act that both myself and clients participate in knowingly and willingly. Every now and then it isn't an act because I actually get turned on by a situation, and this always scares me a little. But I am having some interesting experiences with what I'll call a sex-worker head-space. Not unlike sub-space, this is a somewhat altered mental space that I can step in and out of and I sometimes have a little trouble stepping out of it. I can step in and I am the sexually adventurous young woman of your dreams (whatever your dreams are, I'll figure it out and then play the role). I am neither surprised nor judgmental, but smile flirtatiously if you have ED, if you ask to lick my asshole (no thanks!), if you want me to pretend to be your ex-wife. After all this isn't about what I want, its about what you want, and I'm creating this fantasy for you (for a fee...) Sometimes I lose myself in this a little bit and have to come back to reality. Can anyone else relate to these experiences?


hi author =) i thought you'd wanna know that your t-shirt link "Two of these illustrations" is broken, it points to something that ends up at http://www.robinson.com/ which is some German site, wtf?

btw, thanks for the word "lacuna" which you used in one of your posts or stories i just read =) though i'd heard it before, i never knew what it meant, so i looked it up, etc. etc. =) thanks =) always nice to learn new words =)

also, you don't have to post this comment, i was just lettin' you know you gots a broked link =)

be well and take care =)


So good to see your writing here again. Wonderful and thought provoking as always.

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