Putting on airs

There comes a time during long-term unemployment when a gal has to figure out what else she could do for a living. It would have to be something she’s good at, enjoys and will sustain her for a lifetime. While pondering my attributes, I decided to focus on my strengths — my intelligence, sense of humor, wicked wit, strong writing skills, wide knowledge of film making, and a built-in asshole detector — just to name a few.

A few friends have suggested I open my own business (doing what? Being a smartass doesn’t pay all that well). Small problem with starting  a business —  you kind of need a product to sell, and way to get and keep customers. I love how friends and acquaintances feel so triumphant when they tell me to ‘start my own business.’ That smugness is quickly dashed when I tell them I’m not an entrepreneur and not interested in ‘starting my own business.’ What’s truly is sad is they haven’t been paying attention and don’t know me well at all.

And, frankly, I’m sick of building my ‘brand’ and trying to sell myself to others. What brand would that be? Getting folks to click on ads on my blog is not my idea of ‘brand building’ — it’s bullshit and not worth the .001 cents I would get per click. While I’m at it, Tweeting and re-Tweeting my blog posts with the appropriate hashtags is not my idea of ‘brand building.’ Unless, of course, my ‘brand’ is porn because we all know that sex sells.

Until I spied this. From Untapped.Sf

I’ve edited it a bit since it’s waaay too long. Maybe Untapped.Sf should hire an editor.

Urban Profile: Jacki and the Business of Farting…for the Camera

Why didn’t I think of this?

Here’s a fact: WOMEN FART. Yep, we do. We belch, fart, rub one off every once in a while. We flick our nipples, use vibrators, pick our noses, scratch our asses, and walk around our abodes nekkid (shut UP).

In other words, we’re human.

With that, I don’t know why folks are getting their knickers in a twist about some broad who farts on video for money.

I met Jacki at a dance class three years ago. I remember noticing two things about her right off the bat. The first was a large, u-shaped scar on her chest that she made no effort to hide, and the second was just how open and upfront she was about…well, everything. Within minutes of meeting her, I learned that Jacki is, in her own words, a fetish video producer (more on this later), and that a few years prior she had had a life-saving lung transplant (hence the scar) born of a rare respiratory illness.

But first, who is Jacki and what does she do? Quite simply, this Bay Area native is a producer of farting videos. Her videos, which are posted on various fetish-exclusive sites are downloaded and paid for by hundreds of consumers. These video clips, featuring Jacki in various stages of undress, farting noisily into the camera, fulfill a niche community of men who get off on women farting. Yes, you read right. Men watch her fart and tell her how hot she is, how hard they are for her and her farts, and how much they want her to sit on their faces and fart on them.

Fetish isn’t something new to Bay Area folks. As a city that celebrates nudity, ass-less chaps, Kink.com and the Folsom Street Fair, San Franciscans are generally unfazed by what our more conservative counterparts call “sexual perversion.” But Jacki, my girl-next-door friend does not fit the typical profile of a San Francisco sexual deviant. With her fresh-faced cheeriness, completely unblemished skin (no tattoos, no piercings) and Euro-chic dress sense, Jacki looks like the furthest thing from a fetish girl. She jokes:

“When people hear that I’m in the fetish business they think latex, S&M, piercings and dominatrix whipping stuff. Seriously Suicide Girls is so 1998. We’ve moved on to farting people!”

 I am speechless. Why the hell didn’t I think of this? I’d be a gazillionaire by now had I done this first. Thank god for fetishes. Seriously.
Immersing herself full time in the world of selling fetish items, Jacki quickly became highly sought after. She soon transitioned her business from selling used items such as shoes and underwear (and tempting fate by shipping these items with the US Postal System) to filming and selling only fetish videos on the internet, her specialty being fart videos.

Her vidyas are plotless, last anywhere from five to ten minutes in length and are for sale via her website (which she doesn’t want posted). Candid is the name of the game with Staci — she just turns on the camera and let’s ’em rip, but not after telling her viewers how bad she needs to cut one. Charming. And, what’s even better, is she’s basically a gal-next-door type. How refreshing, but the gal-next-door turn-on bodes well for someone like me, who looks like she’s just been found bound and gagged in someone’s crawlspace right next door, and is in dire need of a shower and a shave.

What’s even better about Staci is she’s a true Philosopher Queen when it comes to farting on camera, and what works and doesn’t. Also, her dietary needs that are helping her become as famous as Le Petomane. Spoiler alert — her roughage requirements aren’t that extraordinary.

“All farts are not created equal. Some men like farting girls in underwear, some men only like white underwear farts, some like thongs, some hate thongs, some like farts through jeans, some like bare-bottom farts, some like women farting on furniture, like chairs, or couches or mattresses. … Kashi cereal. I had some this morning, and now I’ve got so much gas!” she groans. “Raw cabbage will do it too, but who wants to eat raw cabbage?”

I’m in awe of this woman because she obviously isn’t filled with the crippling WASP prudishness that invades every single cell in my body. If I didn’t have family OR friends, I’d make over-40 farting vids because you know damn well there’s a market for it.

What makes me say something so bold?

“If you have a sense of humor about farting, you’ll stay young.”

Things not-so-mundane

I’ll be taking a little trip for a few days to defend my title.

So, until then, stay in the shallow end of the pool, don’t pick your nose in public and enjoy these fine tales I’ve highlighted below.

First, these are ugly, and I love Uggs. I just don’t wear them out in public because I don’t want to look like a hippo with suede legs and club feet. I don’t care how skinny you are — they aren’t flattering which is why I don’t get why any woman would want to wear something so unflattering on the most important day of her life. Suede cankles under silk. You may kiss the bride.

Um, nope. (photo courtesy of Clark+Walker Studio)

 

 

After reading this, I want a zebra and a drink. (from USAToday)

Iowa man with zebra, parrot arrested for DUI in bar lot

Breathe it in, folks. What about that hed stands out the most to you? I get the parrot and the zebra pairing since those are two species who might live in the wild together. DUI, man and Iowa, yep, kind of a no-brainer. However, when you put all those items together, you have a big bowl of wrong. It’s fun though.

“So, this man with a zebra and parrot walks out of a bar —

No, it’s not the set-up for a joke, but an intoxicatingly true story out of Dubuque, Iowa, according to news reports from the Hawkeye State.

Jerald Reiter, 55, of Cascade, Iowa, was backing his truck out of the Dog House Lounge parking lot Sunday night when police stopped him. His passengers? A small zebra in the back seat and a macaw parrot on his shoulder, the Telegraph Heraldreports.

Officers said Reiter’s blood-alcohol level was .14 (the limit is .08), so he was charged with driving drunk (officially, operating while intoxicated). He admits he was behind the wheel but was going to let his other passenger — his human buddy — do the driving, according to the local Gazette.

Reiter thinks someone in the crowd of gawkers called police to complain about the “welfare” of his novel pets, which often go for rides.

He said his local watering hole often allows pets, but not Sunday night, because the owner told him food was being served. TV station KCRG.com got a different story: no animals are ever allowed inside. (Will the bar owner be in the dog house if the alcohol and health inspectors stop by?)

Reiter’s girlfriend, Vicki Teter, told the Gazette that their animals “are a big part of the family,” and that she understands people’s reactions to their exotic pets.

“It’s not everyday you see somebody that’s got a zebra or a parrot in the house, and who knows tomorrow what might be in our house,” she said.”

I got nothing to add, except for the video….

Pennsylvania police officer broke into neighbor’s house, did laundry, cops say

I bet the homeowner wouldn’t have pressed charges had the officer done his clothes too. From the AP.

“AVALON, Pa. — Dirty clothes have a Pittsburgh-area police officer in hot water.
coplights.jpgView full sizeThe Patriot-News
Rankin police Officer Jason Rocco is charged with trespassing and criminal mischief for allegedly breaking into a neighbor’s home to wash his clothes.

Rocco was arraigned Saturday and released on his own recognizance.

WPXI-TV reports the home’s owner noticed his electric bill was unusually high, given that he hadn’t lived in the house for months. When the owner visited, investigators say he found the dryer running with Rocco’s clothes inside.

Avalon police who questioned Rocco say he told investigators the home’s back door was already broken and he “just had to do some laundry.”

A phone listing for Rocco could not be located Wednesday. A preliminary hearing is scheduled for Thursday.”

I don’t blame him for not going to a laundromat. The last time I blessed one of those establishments with my presence, I caught some slight-in-stature man trying to steal my knickers.

When I asked him why, he said, “The goat outside told me to.”

“That’s not a nice way to talk about your boyfriend.”

“Cunt.”

 

I want one of these t-shirts in every fucking color of the rainbow, then I’d give one to every woman I know. I’d wear this rag every damn day too. I don’t care if crewnecks are unflattering, or if they’ll start to fray after being worn day in and day out. It’s message is spot-on.

This has to do with an incident on an American Airlines flight where a woman was removed because she was wearing a t-shirt like this one. According to the airlines, the message on the shirt was offensive so she was told she either had to cover up the shirt or change into something more appropriate, or not fly. (I.E. something with no swears or offensive imagery on it.)

Now, had I been wearing this shirt and was asked to remove it, I would’ve. Sure. Why not? But, I’m gonna add a wrinkle — why replace the shirt? Why not just go topless? Shit howdy, I would. What’s the big deal? Seeing a nice pair of boobs isn’t the worst thing spied on a flight these days. We’ve all seen worse — from people travelling in pajama bottoms, (“the slobification of America” — thank you Tim Gunn), to this sassy gent.

When was it okay for American Airlines to make political statements by dictating what a passenger wears on her t-shirt? Like I stated earlier, I’ve seen much worse on flights — demeaning tattoos, over-pierced bodies, heinous t-shirts that are demeaning to women and minorities and I’ve never seen a member of a flight crew bat an eye — even after a fellow passenger complained about a sexist t-shirt that barely skimmed this other passenger’s ample tum-tum. All the flight attendant could do was shrug her shoulders. Funny, there’s a clause in an airline’s contract of carriage that the airline may refuse transport or remove a passenger from a flight if the passenger is “clothed in a manner that would cause discomfort or offense to other passengers” among other things. Most airlines’ contracts of carriage include such clauses, but the language may be different. I’ve rarely seen or heard of this rule being enforced.

Finally, this is my new favorite Tumblr. It’s replaced this blog.

Indifferent cats in amateur porn

It’s got cats, it’s got porn. What more could you possibly want?

McCrabass speaks!

A friend, Matthew Aaron, from Chicago has decided to take pity on me and let me be a guest on his Internet radio show. Fortunately, my parole officer has allowed this and will be here soon to take the anklette off to make participating just that much easier.

So, if you’re around a computer at noon PT, please tune in. I have NO idea what’s going to happen. Matt said we’re gonna wing it and one of us will either end up in traction or in a Magdalene laundry. Whatever happens, it will be fun — that I can guarantee.

Here’s the page for the show — I believe you have to subscribe in order to get access to the podcast.

http://www.thematthewaaronshow.com/

Please be gentle with the criticisms — it’s my first time.

Notes on the news

SOPA and Keystone XL pipeline have been covered ad nauseam lately so I won’t be weighing in on either. But, I will say this … the fact that knickers were all twisted up because folks couldn’t access Wikipedia today is just plain sad. Wikipedia? Really? Where folks can add their own facts, make up crap and post it as truth without any repercussions for passing on false information?

Wait … what am I talking about here? The press?

I need a nap.

Plus, both subjects are not as fun and fucked up as the following stories.

Perhaps he should’ve tripped in an entirely different manner. I mean, he sure is rambling on and on like he’s taken one too many hits of window pane. The wreckage of the Costa Concordia is tragic and what makes the tragedy even worse is Capt. Francesco Schettino’s big, fat yap.

Case in point when asked why/how he ended up in a lifeboat with his passengers.

From The Inquistr.

“I was helping some passengers put the life boat to sea. At a certain point the mechanism for lowering it, blocked. We had to force it. Suddenly the system unblocked itself and I tripped and I found myself inside the life boat with a number of passengers.”

Oh really? I hear the Colosseum in Rome is for sale too.

Too bad he’s married because he’s a keeper.

****************************************

I’m anti-death penalty for reasons I’m not going to get into right now.

Maybe murdering people isn’t such a good idea — ever. If you do end up offing a few folks and end up with shitty legal representation, you could end up with a bag over your head and dirt nap time drugs coursing through your veins.

This is messed up, folks.

From The Inquistr.

Supreme Court Agrees To Rare Appeal After Deadline Filing Missed For Death Row Inmate

“Alabama death row inmate Cory Maples is being given a new hearing after the U.S. Supreme Court issued a rare exception. Attorney’s for the death row inmate failed to file an appeals deadline because of a weird chain of events, an appeal the court believes may have helped his case.

In 1997 Maples was convicted of murdering two people, at the time two lawyers for big name New York Law firm Sullivan & Cromwell volunteered to work on his appeal.

After filing an initial appeal both attorney’s left the law firm as the case began to proceed through Alabama’s court system. When letters were sent to the lawyer’s at Sullivan & Cromwell after they had left their posts they were sent back to their sender, causing the deadline to be missed.

Years after the incident Maples realized what had occurred and petitioned the state court system, unfortunately they shot down his claim at which point his lawyers petitioned the US Supreme Court.”

Ahhh … the South. You know the section of the United States that the rest of the country turns a blind eye to when folks below the Mason-Dixon say and do stupid shit. It’s quite gauche these days to say “Oh it’s the South –what do you expect?” As a nation, we gotta stop with that shoulder-shrugging ‘whatever’ attitude whenever residents of the southern states acts out in an archaic manner.

“In her majority opinion Ruth Bader Ginsburg wrote that Cory Maples was the victim of  ”extraordinary circumstances quite beyond his control.”

Gosh, ya think?

This is an interesting ruling though. Let’s hope the SCOTUS starts to look at all death penalty appeals cases with a sharper eye in the future… maybe start paying attention to that wacky thing called DNA evidence. Just a thought.

****************************************

Finally, if Marky Mark looked like this if he had been on one of the hijacked planes, perhaps he could’ve delayed the horrible inevitable by about … oh … five minutes.

If he had treated the hijackers like he treated Jack Horner and his crew, he probably would’ve staved off the horrible inevitable for another minute.

Take it from about 2 minutes in.

“My cock is ready … ”

Oy, the jokes are too many but the real question is, is it too soon?

Good thing he coughed up an apology.

****************************************

Finally 2.0, I’m a huge Frederick Wiseman fan and desire a white equine-esque tail to wear with my buttless chaps so I’ll be seeing this film. 

Pay it forward? Not. So. Fast.

Pay it forward.

You’ve heard the saying before, and you’ve probably even seen the insipid movie of the same title starring the tone-on-tone Helen Hunt, that kid who saw dead people and someone who eerily resembles Kevin Spacey on a bad day. The basic tenets of the film are do good shit for others and your good deeds will prompt them to go do crap for other folks. And so on. It’s a good message, a scosch cheesy, but worth watching a pock-marked Spacey who’s the love interest of Helen Hunt’s character, become her lover. Talk about a piece of awkward pie. He musta been channelling a jacked-up-with-AIDS Rock Hudson when he had to swap spit with Linda Evans on “Dallas.” Of course, Spacey is healthy, I’m just poking the obvious here.

I get the whole “pay it forward” bit. It makes total sense, and I do help others in as many ways as possible. However, it is easier to do small good deeds than larger ones — such as helping a friend with a story, or passing on a job lead to someone else, taking a friend to the ER — all deeds I’ve done several times minus the quid pro quo expectation.

Until now.

I’m not talking about small favors that are prerequisites for any serious friendship — like feeding my cats, maybe picking up a few things at the store, or buying Russian porn when in Moscow. Those favors are appreciated, natch.

What I find troubling are the folks whose meaty paws are on the pulse of the job scene but refuse to help out those in need. Yeah yeah yeah … I know the economy is in the shitter. I get that. Duh. But, things are getting better. Things are looking up — even in my chosen field of journalism slash communications. What I find even more troubling are the folks I know who just aren’t into helping those of us who are without the great connections. What really chaps my hide is that those folks who refuse to help, got to where they are today with help.

They did. And lots of it.

No way they did it on their own. Doesn’t work that way — even if you are the spawn of a fat, farmer high-falutin’ family or attended a prestigious higher learning institution.

So what’s with the reason behind this miser shit? I’m hoping someone will be brave enough to weigh in and essplain why not helping those who are perfectly capable is so NOT their thang. It’s not like I’m going to contact a contact and demand that they give me a job (so not my style) — I just want a chance to sell myself — in a non-hooor way of course. I promise to keep the nose-picking down to a minimum, and the raunchy jokes at bay. Then, while you’re yammering away sans eye contact about how I might embarrass you or how you don’t help anyone, I’ll do everything in my power to keep from verbally ripping you a new asshole sans lube. Then, post-lashing, I’ll gently remind you that there’s an extremely good chance you’ll be in my shoes someday very soon. And, how I might be as stingy with helping you, as you were with me. Then, I’ll turn off my inner-bitch and realize that I’m all about ‘paying it forward.’

I doubt I could be anything BUT that way. Thank dog.

Porn school update

Remember when I wrote about this chap and his schtupping school?

I sent him an inquiry about his classes and below is the response. Reminder, I did not edit it because it doesn’t need it. Really — it doesn’t.

 

;) winking Hi Julia … I am late responding ; but I was answering phones & stuff . How much are the classes ? ? ? They are FREE – for now . Once it catches on – then of course ; there will be a Fee … So join now – before there is a charge . Tell me though : what particular positions , are you most interested in learning how to do – The Correct Way ? Yeah , every person knows how to fuck ; but the question is – how many people are really Good , at fucking ? ? ? The answer is : Not Many … Thank you for asking the question Julia – I get that particular question ,all the time . So , are you ready to take a class , and see if you like the experience ? Call me at :  708-582-0286 , and make an appointment for your Private Class , at CHEAP THRILLS PHOTOGRAPHY :  8223 South WOODLAWN Avenue , CHICAGO , IL. 60619 … Usually , if you come between the hours of 8PM & 9PM – you do not have to call ahead , and make an appointment . Disclaimer : We do not engage in Prostitution , or pay any fees for sexual services .”

After cringing yet again about the horrible punctuation and creative sentence structure, I couldn’t stop giggling. I would love to know if the other folks who’ve asked this “particular question ,all the time” are serious or joking about it like I am. I have a feeling it’s a mixed bag.

His response, however, has raised more questions — Who else participates in these classes? Just how private are these classes? Do we have to do the nasty during the very first class? If so, with whom? Is there supplemental material we should pick up beforehand? Will there be exams? If so, how many? What type of exams are they: oral or written? What will we be graded on? Are there other courses we can take once we’ve completed this course? What else is on the syllabus? Is there even a syllabus? Is there extra credit? If so, what kind?

These are just some of the questions I have rolling around in my noggin at the moment. If you have any you’d like me to ask, please feel free to contact me.

Merry Christmas!

Aww…what a nice mama!

We all know my history with spiders. I’ve mentioned it before here, here and in many a-conversation.

Apparently, spiders are like humans when it comes to carrying their bebehs around. You don’t believe me? Well, you’ll see soon enough.

From Gizmodo.

This Horrifying Spider Is The Only One That

Carries Her Babies Like a Human Mother

Would

No, no no no no no no no no no no n o n o NO NO NO NOOOOOO I did NOT just read that headline. That’s total bullshit. No way. Even opening and closing my eyes real fast, and doing Jell-O shots did not clear that headline from my noggin.

So, I kept reading because I’m an emotional cutter.

“If there’s an image that summarizes my idea of complete horror, this is it: a wolf spider carrying dozens of babies on her back. It’s the only spider in the world that does this.

It’s also the only spider that carriers her eggs in a round silken globe attached to her abdomen, like a human would carry a growing baby. After a gestation of 9 to 27 days—it varies depending on the temperature—the eggs hatch and the infant spiders move onto the mother’s back until they are old enough to hunt on their own.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkk… my skin is starting to crawl.

Don’t believe me?? Here’s A VIDEO OF THIS ARACHNID.

“These spiders are all around the world, billions of individuals living in gardens everywhere. They are voracious predators, roaming the soil under the ground looking for other spiders and insects to eat. Sometimes, they wander into houses.

When I was living in Miami I had an encounter with one of these wolf spiders, one that was burned into my retina. I remember the hairy bastard walking down the rug of my bedroom, my girlfriend screaming, me using a shoe to kill it and then what I remember being two hundred thousand little spiders running everywhere. Then I screamed more than my girlfriend—because I hate spiders like that. [Spirderzrule—Thanks Karl!]”

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to find a hermitically sealed abode that has lots of booze, chocolate and porn. But no spiders. Peace out.