The hand that feeds.
Daddy loves your mouth…
I’ve been asked why I like Sasha Grey so much. And, to be honest, it’s not because of her porn. Sure, she’s a gorgeous woman with tremendous sex appeal, but a lot of her stuff is way too commercialized and cheesy. For all the really awesome stuff she does, there is some material that she attaches herself to that is just sort of “…come on”.
It’s more about her bravado and her attitude toward who she is and what she does. When she caught some heat for having an unshaven pussy on Entourage, she retorted that viewers could now see “what a real woman looked like”. When Tyra Banks gave her crap about her career, she defended herself maturely and eloquently. She’s amazingly unapologetic.
It’s hard for me sometimes not to feel ashamed of some of the things I like. So, yes, I admire the shit out of this woman. Also, just…come on…look at her.
“And when we meet again and introduced as friends, please don’t let on that you knew me when I was hungry and it was your world.”
You know when someone puts something into words so easily when you’ve spent so long struggling to verbalize it?
“Good God, what a mess of draggle-tail impulses a man is—and a woman too, I guess.” – John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent
I’m so there.
Get thee to a nunnery…
I’m down to my last week here.
While I am very excited to see my friends and family again, I am going to miss this place like crazy. I have had so many amazing experiences and I am trying to work out a way to come back here next summer, possibly for research purposes. The women I worked with were so inspirational and I had some really amazing opportunities and experiences that I never dreamed in a thousand years would be available to me.
Yes, sometimes it got dangerous and uncomfortable. But, no, I would not do anything differently (okay, okay, maybe a few things). I am so grateful to all the people who stuck around to follow me and for all the people who jumped on during my hiatus (there are more than a hundred of you, oh my gosh).
I’ll be back to my normal smut quota soon. See you all in a week.
It’s really funny, actually, the things that grow on you simply because you care for someone. And, beyond that, the things you actually start to like. It’s as if your mind is justifying the thing you can’t stand with the fact that it’s being performed by a person who manages to stand you.
For instance, I used to not be able to handle snoring at all. If I heard it through a wall, I couldn’t sleep. But, I started dating someone who snored and tried my hardest to sleep through it because I was tired of flipping my poor bed-mate over in the night like a patty to try to stop the snoring. Sometimes, it worked. Sometimes, it made it worse.
And then one night I woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. I was covered in a cold sweat and as I came to and calmed down, all I heard was the snoring. And there was something incredibly comfortable about it. It was this reminder, beyond the feeling of warmth beside me, that I wasn’t alone.
Now, I’m actually kind of comforted by snoring. I find it endearing.
But, no, I don’t think I’d ever, ever tolerate anyone who ate mayoneggs. That’s too fucking far.
Oops. I’m sticking to the stove.
US Vogue, 1993