Anonymity for the Infamous
That which has No Life
So there is a new threat on the horizon. The anonymity of porn performers is being put to the test and may be damaged irreparably if the bitter old Danny Long makes good on his bet to publicize thousands of real names. Being a fan of both anonymity and dragging shady character names through the mud, I have mixed feelings.
I said previously that privacy is our last stand against the gross sharing of personal information. But that was in relation to nationalized healthcare records. Somehow this move to drag through the mud the names of real people is much more upsetting than Prime Minister Harper knowing I take SSNRI medication.
The porn industry is notorious for attracting shady characters across gender, race, sexual and age spectrums, but the same can be said of any field of work be it health care, customer service, etc. industries. In an age where the population at large is employed in customer services I do not believe it is too much to ask that customer service representatives be given due privacy. And porn performance is arguably customer service-based.
Too many people, arguably all people, make choices under duress. Should we not be afforded amnesty for work that might not best represent ourselves. This issue is about people severing ties with old stage names as much as it is about privacy. Even those performers who work under non-aliases or who revel in their performances should be afforded anonymity. 
Hopefully the only name tarnished in this potential move is that of  Donald Carlos Seoane. 

Seeing Red
That which has No Life
The last thing I sewed is my masterpiece. It is my red nutcracker jacket that I lined with thick, navy fabric and wear on the coldest days. It needs drycleaning, and has held up well for the two years I`ve had it. I`m scared that drycleaning will warp the seams since I didn`t prewash the fabric it`s made from.
I haven`t been able to finish any misses` wear since I`ve made it. I went to the fabric store today and on pure impulse bought some 70s looking knit fabric that I WILL make a wrap dress from. I love the colour red. The fabric is in the washer right now and I just want to cut it up I`m so impatient.  I should probably organize my sewing box but I`d rather veg out. If I can get the pattern pinned tonight I`ll sleep happy.

Writer's Block: The name of the game
That which has No Life
What was your favorite game as a child, and why? With whom did you play it?

I was a lucky kid, all my best friends lived on my street and I remember playing lots of games with them. There were six of us, 3 girls and 3 boys, a set of siblings, an older boy and an older girl. Sometimes my best friends` cousin would play with us and other times other neighbourhood kids would come out. My favourite game didn`t have a name but it involved running through our neighbours yards and hopping their fences. 
One time while scaling a fence my brother landed on top of a nail that stuck out from a board in a scrap heap on the other side. It went through his little German sandals and into his heel.
We used to hop down double flights of stairs and use our mattresses as boards to slide down stairs as well.
Another game we played was called Cheeseburger, which we played with big brown beanbag chairs. 
I remember my childhood fondly and feel lucky to have been in the company of such creative people. But sometimes the games got rough.
One time my brother was sent a death threat, but thanks to the stupidity of the senders we figured out right away where it originated: there was a letterhead on the note from a boy`s father`s desk down the street.
Shortly after we were vindicated. We had a fight one night in the alley. It was me, my brother and the older girl armed with pebbles against the neighbourhood bully who had a shovel. The bully had collaborated with the boy down the street to issue the death threat and was getting antsy for some violence.
We had a stand off and when push came to shove I started picking up pebbles from the unpaved alley and throwing them at the bully. He got hit in the forehead and we booked it to my playhouse. The bully`s family came to my house - through our open backyard and to our side door - to lecture my parents. Too bad, none of us cared by that point, and they never bugged us again.

Lack of Business Training
That which has No Life
I`m off to another busy day at work, and it`s my  trainers last day. I`m hoping that I`m a good sponge and have taken in all that`s needed to succeed in my new position. But I can`t help but think of the coming weekend and a cure for the insane boredom I have. I`m not used to working full-time and need a spa day to recover. Soon.
The theme of this entry is busybodies and is a continuation of my last entry. I woke up today with a bitter taste in my mouth coming from a dream about people who send back meals at good restaurants wanting the Chef to cook a special meal for them while they watch with mouths agape and drooling.
I despise people, who lacking business training, stick their snub noses into the business of others at the most inopportune times because they want to give a lecture on existential philosophy. It makes me stark raving mad. I don`t mind being called names, but I do mind people auditioning their homemade bandaid solutions for my messy problems.
Now I`m off to have another good day at work and later to volunteer giving good meals to the hungry masses.

I have a Plan
That which has No Life
I used to fantasize about being homeless. I used to dream about stealing my dad`s van, driving to AZ and hustling an electric outlet and a parking spot in front of a nice old lady`s house. I would perform stand-up downtown while flying a sign as my means of income. Now those dreams are shattered because AZ sucks for foreigners and I`ve donated all my good material to tricks and player haters
But I still have a daydream about hustling money being a bullshitter, even if my conscience prevents me from acting on it.
I had a friend, well more of an acquaintance namesake, who wrote a terrible zine about her neuroses. She could have flushed out her story more and shopped the tell-all tale of her life to a publisher, but she settled for selling her zine at cost. Like most zines it was terrible. I`m not ashamed to admit I kept it for 7 or so years for it`s total ludicrousness. 
Well I`m going to steal her idea and blow it up! I`m going to write a self-help book for trick bitches with bar tabs at bad businesses. But how do you help people you don`t respect, let alone acknowledge beyond everyday niceties. Platitudes fix attitudes, I think. And to drive sales I`ll take a page from Jenna Jameson and include glossy photos of myself at age 16, conversation transcripts with my dad and a comic about being a prudish slut. Damn, that`s a fine business woman, that Jenna Jameson.

That which has No Life
A question no one asks
Pole taxing taxes us all
Oh when will the Canadians man up
Let them act more lusty 
Oh god I hate making amends and giving
G-d, I can't bear to say His name
Yes I forgive you, Mr. Brown.

Thought and Memory
That which has No Life
Who is your favorite mythical creature/character, and why?

Grey and murky, thick and the sky poured,
and the few stars that came shone as pinwheels.
Orion was there but the lion could not show pride.
And the Kingfisher lurked and sulked.

The sky was swept fast across a vast, vaulted plain,
in a mighty blow it came upon them all.
Then came the Starling in the skin of a crow.
And split the river in twain, again.

Thought and memory are the crows of Odin who daily circle the world and tell him of the news so he doesn't have to shit where he sleeps. I wish there were more stories about them cos they have seen some pretty sick shit. My favourite god is Loki cos he brings the lulz and is just a foil for Odin so it's like 2 for the price of one without the sales tax. Plus he makes fart jokes at a family dinner he wasn't even invited to at the expense of Odin's wife, Freija. He's a pretty cool dude.

That is It
That which has No Life
I`ve had it up to here with social theory. Why does that statement only make sense when spoken to an audience.
I`ve lost you already, probably at the sixth syllable because as everyone knows to make an academic polemic you must have a verbose juxtaposition of clauses and questions surrounded by prepositions and rhetorical questions bent around a linguistic meta-analysis referencing the Chicago School. 
That last sentence probably made more sense to sociologists than the first two ever could because the logic of social theory is self-referential and lunatic. Social theory will never take off because it is not empirical. It is like saying water is wet because it is slippery. 
I can`t wait until Chomsky dies or neuroscience has a gigantic breakthrough. We are animals first and primates second.
Oops I just committed a social sin, thinking I am better than a nematode because I am more complex. Guess what, even if you`re offended you know you are better necessarily than a nematode. Feelings are meant to be hurt and they can regenerate infinitely. Now stop collecting data as if it must fit your hackneyed social theories and get back to your fieldwork.

World of Shit
That which has No Life
I'm laying about in my Bad Tour shirt without a care in the world because I just got home from work. I don`t get it how most people don`t throw their pajamas or any lounge wear on as soon as they get home. Funny though, I hate yoga pants. If I ever get talented in Men`s Wear I`m going to make myself a smoking jacket and pants like Hugh Hefner. He knows what`s up.

I`m such a little goth, I wrote a terrible poem on the bus ride home and called it ``A gift to Anon.`` I don`t need to check 4chan because I get all the choice cuts at work. Talking about trolling irl is weird but fun, especially on paid smoke breaks.

I got a job offer that I`m sad to turn down. It can be so hard to say no to money, but my mental health is worth more than a pittance salary.

The Writer`s Block prompt is suspiciously fishy today, but I feel lulled into answering. The worst thing that I have done in a relationship is not cutting my losses soon enough. That seems to be a general theme for myself and many others so I don`t feel too embarrassed. I`m thinking about a guy who insisted my friends were cokeheads, that I didn`t spend enough time with him, and that I was cheating on him. He was wrong, and his breath smelled.
I was with him for a year and a half. I don`t appreciate him much at all, even now. I don`t get people who want to stay friends with everyone they were ever close to. It`s not necessary.

Churchill said that he could count all his friends on one hand, I hope one day I can approach that.

I`m going to spend the rest of the evening vegging out and sewing. My kitty girl just said hello to me so I`m off again. 

LOL Wrong Date
That which has No Life
It's actually my 11th anniversary of my most significant relationship in high school. One day I'll count out how many boyfriends I've actually had, but I think it's around 30-40 or so. 
With stats like that I'm pretty proud to be such a prude. People don't get in my pocket that easy, but I sure do love cheap entertainment.
I'm so fastidious. 
~single to mingle~ is my motto!


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