There’s this music video that I see constantly on “the n,” which is the (if you ask me) lame-ass name for the tv station that is Noggin during the day. The video is the Black Eyed Peas’ Don’t Phunk with My Heart, and it always makes me think of Lenny Bruce.

Lenny Bruce was a little before my time, but I’ve seen a few of his bits from archive footage, and what always stuck with me was this insight: “dirty” words can only be so if everybody knows what they are, and what they mean.

Why does this video make me think of Lenny? Well, as played on the n, it’s SUCH a classic example of the phenomena.

There’s a couple of little bits that are oddly - but not inexplicably - blurred. Now the whole video has a racy, wink-wink-nudge-nudge kind of vibe, but apparantly those persons who are in charge of making things safe for our kids to view decided that two things in this video - the bit where Taboo grabs the chick’s ass and the words “Knock Boots” on the wheel at the end - were just too darn naughty for the 11-15 year old demographic the n’s programming is aimed at.

It’s not as if you don’t know he’s grabbing her bum, the whole scene indicates it so much that you need not see the actual move to know what has taken place. And even with all my experience I have not the foggiest idea what kind of sexual position might result in one “knocking boots” But I damn sure know now that “knock boots” means sex.

What has astonished me since the very first time I saw it played was the title - the word Phunk is such a blatantly obvious play on fuck, one of the dirtiest words available, I couldn’t believe they let it through at all. I’m guessing that the censors who made the rest of the video safe for the kiddies let this one pass on the basis that it might also have been a play on “funk.” However, contextually speaking, funk doesn’t fit at all…don’t musical style with my heart? See - it doesn’t work. Don’t screw with my heart - that works.

It strikes me that what is actually going on here is not so much protecting the kiddies from naughtiness as it is teaching them what is naughty. Oh, I don’t think the folks who slapped the blur on the video had any such thoughts in mind - more likely they were thinking “ok, the kids love this song but the parents’ll flip if we just play it; we have to try and clean it up a bit!” But isn’t that exactly how cultural conditioning works?

Like I said, it makes me think of Lenny.

The very hardest part being a sex worker is integrating it with the job that comes first, being a mother. One of the reasons I started doing this was that I was sick, sick, sick of being JUST a mom, but it is still my first obligation.

I’m not trying to hide my work from my kids. I am not ashamed of doing this, nor would I be distressed if my son or daughter chose a similar occupation. But you know, you can’t exactly do a sexy cam-show with a couple of preschoolers scampering about. Even if it weren’t illegal, most customers would still find it a turn off. *I* find it a turn-off. :-p

I don’t expect customers to have to deal with this; I figure once they’ve paid it’s my job to give them what they paid for - just as I would expect from any other professional. I strive to schedule things so that my interactions with clients don’t get interrupted, which is not easy. But the harder task is getting in the right mood for my work. After having spent an exhausting day dealing with godawful messes, nerve-shattering shreiking, and continual battles of will it can be difficult to play the sexy siren with any sincerity.

It makes me laugh sometimes when guys show just how clueless they are about any of this. There’s one fellow in particular who is always talking about me as if I were constantly exuding sex-appeal, always on the verge of ravishing somebody, barely in control of my erotic compulsions. That is so fucking ridiculous to me, when I spend most of my time wearing smocks decorated with peanut butter and playing tea-party or legos.

There’s a bunch of reasons I decided to start this diary, which will probably all come up eventually. But mainly what I mean to do here is talk about my work as a fledgeling web-whore. Kind of the behind-the-scenes perspective, and with the sort of “deep & philosophical” commentary that just doesn’t happen when you’re writing text to accompany a naked picture of yourself for the purposes of making a few bucks.

Maybe that’s a good place to start. If I was just writing to accompany naked pics of myself, and NOT trying to make some money at it, I would probably write whatever the hell I want. But although I’m not making stuff up when I write something for my site, my writing is always influenced by the knowledge that it has to appeal to somebody or I won’t get paid. And if I don’t get paid then eventually I’ll have to find a no doubt ghastly job to pay the bills.

I really like what I’m doing now. In fact, I love it. I feel like it’s a calling, like I’ve been training for it all my life without even realizing it. I don’t want some other job; I want to be a web-whore.