So I’ve been “MIA” for a while, a term which is completely wasted on me as I’ve been getting no action at all. What actually happened is that I went back on anti-depressants and they did what they always do, which is eradicate the problem with a simple “I can no longer find the energy to care”, whilst also taking my mojo away with it. I just haven’t had the drive or the inspiration to write for a while, which was my main concern about going back onto medication but hey ho, here I am and I promise to get back into it because I actually really enjoy blogging and reading all the responses has been so nice. It’s so fucking nice to finally be acknowledged for something beyond the underwear I’m wearing (FYI today is Bridget Jones knickers because the painters are in).
One issue that does keep arising in comments is people apologising for enjoying my previous work and saying they feel guilty. I just want to quickly make it clear that I have absolutely no issue whatsoever with people watching porn – I watch porn! – and yes I did get off on making movies and living out some sexual fantasies that I wouldn’t have gotten around to in my personal life. I love sex. I just didn’t get into the industry for the right reasons and it is those experiences that affected me most, hence why I write about them. There is nothing wrong with watching my videos and also listening to what I have to say beyond me panting and shouting “UH!”. It’s fine, honestly. I have no issue with it.
I don’t hate men just because I use to spend hours on end listening to them cumming down the phone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no angel. The sex industry is a funny one in the sense that often there is little respect between the customer and the performer; we don’t respect them and they don’t respect us. Again, please don’t take my generalisations to heart. When I say “they”, I am referring to the “bread and butter” customers, the ones with their tongues lolling out who don’t even bother saying “hello” when they call up. Some of the customers are nice and I genuinely got on with them and built up a rapport and some are not, although I’d warrant a guess that any of my followers and previous customers who do read my blog aren’t the ones who would demand “fist ur fat fanny u dirty bitch”. It’s not something you’d ask your wife to do.
“Sex workers” offer a release from the norm, the chance to live out fantasies that you wouldn’t do in your real life and that is fine, everyone needs a release. When you’re in the heat of the moment nothing else matters. Porn is there for a reason and I promise you I have no issue with anyone watching it, the people I do have an issue with are those who can’t differentiate between porn and real life and send unsolicited pictures of their revolting penis, usually framed by a fat hairy belly, or endless detailed accounts of what they’d do to me. Given the fact that the only way we’d experience any physical contact is if we both happened to be drinking in the same pub and we accidentally knocked shoulders at the bar, I found it really hard towards the end to bite my tongue and simper and giggle in response to these repulsive messages. My favourite were also the endless e-mails asking to meet up because they were “different” and “handsome”. I will never understand the male mentality in which, if you fancy me, it is automatically assumed that I will feel the same, despite having never seen you.
Also, I just want to stress again that any opinions or experiences that I talk about in my blog ARE MINE ONLY. I am not claiming to speak for anyone but myself when I say what happened to me or what I didn’t enjoy or how I felt. I’ve had a few messages saying “reading your blog has made me not want to watch porn now because of how the girls are treated” but that isn’t true. In fact, the only sex worker I’ve ever known who didn’t enjoy it or want to do it is myself! All the girls I met loved their job, were brilliant performers and genuinely enjoyed their work. I just didn’t, so I stopped doing it – it really is as simple as that.
While I’m on a roll, it’s really starting to piss me off that 99% of the messages I’ve received from my “Contact Me” page have been escort inquiries or people sending me their numbers to give them a call. I never bloody escorted even when I was working in the industry and to use a contact feature on a blog that lists how fucking much I hated being involved in any of it is just very, very annoying. The phone numbers are annoying too – you never called me when I was working and earning yet you think I’ll call you, a random wanking stranger, INTERNATIONALLY and pay for the honour of listening to you ejaculate? Too bad the synapses in my brain are too numbed to tear them a new one.
This was all meant to prove that I have no issue with men but it’s impossible to have worked in the industry and to have had the personal life I’ve had and not have issues with men. I don’t loathe males though and judge everyone on a personal basis. I don’t date because my anger and bitterness runs too deep and I can’t trust anyone but I am also hormonal today so will end this mini tirade here by letting you know that normal service will resume shortly!
P.S. On a much, much brighter note thank you so much for all the comments you’ve been leaving. It makes my day knowing that people enjoy my rants and raves and am so flattered that people are even writing what I have to say. Thank you, really.