Being Amber Rhea

Briefly, because I have to wrap a few things up before I leave the office and head home to get ready for pole dancing class… which is particularly timely given some of the links I’m about to provide.

Yes, no surprise, shit like this and this (check the comment from “L”) downright enrages me. And even that word, I think, does not do justice to the pure RAGE I feel when I see people DENYING MY AGENCY AS A HUMAN BEING, denying my very existence, denying that I am an intelligent, capable, self-aware woman who is CONSTANTLY examining and reflecting on my own life and the choices I make. It hurts the most when it comes from other women, in particular other feminists.

I don’t know how or what to write about this shit anymore. Ren has written rounds and rounds of sense on her blog, as have many others; but Ren has been particularly prolific (and repetitive, because apparently it’s just NOT GETTING THROUGH to some people). Frankly I don’t know how she has the energy anymore. It drains me, to constantly try so hard to get people to understand the simple fact of, “This is my life, this is my truth, this is WHO I AM, and you don’t have to like it but you DO have to accept it, and accept that I have done enough ‘examining’ for the both of us, thankyouverymuch.”

It enrages me, and it makes me feel sick, and sad, and just awful about humanity, actually. Because why is it such a difficult concept to convey, that my life is mine, my choices are mine, and just because they differ from yours that does not mean I’m damaged or stupid? Why is it so hard to see that accepting the same old stereotypes of women who are openly sexual (not to mention women who work in the sex industry!) as stupid or damaged or victims or villains is nothing more than some seriously OLD-SCHOOL PATRIARCHAL BULLSHIT? It HURTS to have that same old double standard inflicted on me by other women, by other FEMINISTS.

This post gets the “hypocrisy” tag because, as I said to Elisa the other night, that’s what it is, plain and simple.

Pole dancing, for example? The smug characterizations of it as “empowerful” or “degrading” and whatever other bullshit so-called feminist bloggers (not to even mention non-feminists, especially anti-feminist men; holy shit, I can’t even go there, I would get damn near suicidal) say about it, talking OUT OF THEIR ASSES, assuming I must be doing it for my boyfriend (!!!!!!) or whatever else… holy fucking shit I cannot take it anymore. But guess what I DO know, assholes? That when I’m pole dancing, I feel joyful and whole, I feel a happiness that I rarely feel at any other time that permeates my entire being, I feel ALIVE - and the last thing on my mind is what “Teh Menz” might be thinking (especially because nine times out of ten, there AREN’T ANY MEN PRESENT anyway).

I don’t know how many times I can say this before it will get across. And maybe it never will - which is the part that hurts the most.

Juliana asked:

I’ve riffed on this before, but feel compelled in the midst of so much political activity to challenge this group again - in what way are you inciting revolution, or “change” if you must?

And I answered:

I think the biggest way in which I’m “inciting revolution” is by constantly challenging people’s assumptions and stereotypes wrt sex work, sex workers, and sex workers’ rights. Believe me, this is damn near a full-time job, as the ignorance runs rampant and unabashed. Unless there’s a real impediment to me doing so, I call out bullshit on this issue whenever I see/hear it, no matter who its from. Friends, acquaintances, superiors, family members, allies - anyone. Somehow I am brazen and steadfast on calling out BS on this issue in a way that I’m not yet (but aspire to be) on others.

Tiny revolutions, on a one-on-one level. I can do those.

What about you? Post your answer on the BfD thread!

Ren gave me kudos for engaging on this thread; and frankly, I surprised myself by having the stomach for it.

Quote of the morning goes to Ren, commenting about this particular installation of hand-wringing. (It was hard not to quote her entire post!)

MAYBE for people with kinks or rougher preferences feminist sex includes being aware enough of what they like to ASK for it, do it, enjoy it, explore it WITH other CONSENTING ADULTS! Wow! There’s a fucking thought…

I’ll tell you what, I think the woman who has the spine to tell her partner “I want you to pin me down, choke me, fuck the hell out of me and call me names” is a hell of a lot more empowered sexually than the vanilla woman who lays there and thinks of England rather than telling her partner amid sex what she really wants…no matter what that is. The woman who says “tonight, you’re going to fuck me like an animal, and tomorrow, I’m gonna fuck you like an animal” is light years ahead of the woman too ashamed or afraid to say that. The woman who tells her partner she wants to tie them up, do them with a strap on, and smack them around is better off that the woman who takes what she is given because she is ashamed to mention she’d like to do that.

And I sure as fuck want everyone to examine why they think they can tell other adult consenting people how to fuck or that they are doing it wrong and why they feel they can shame them for it.

I’ll have more to say about this later, when I get a free moment.

I’ve had this pinned in Bloglines for a while now. I quoted from it on my Tumblr, too. I guess I kept thinking I’d come back and write more lengthy commentary, but I realize there isn’t much else I could say, other than just: I relate. So I submit now without comment, a rather lengthy excerpt from Miss Syl’s post Type cast.

One thing that’s interesting about this internet world–and the written word in general–is the perception aspect. That is, the perceptions one builds of the people one reads. Much like reading a book where you create a mental image of the character, people read a blogger’s words and filter them through their own imaginations and experience. And whether deliberately or no, a picture of what the person would be like to interact with in “real life” develops–you invent an imaginary voice for the person, an imaginary height, body type…you think you “get” how that person would move or respond or act in real life.

I suppose this response is only natural. But it’s good to remember that this imagined perception is all you, not them.

…

Assumption #3: Because I talk about sex it means I want to fuck you, or that I’m an emotion-free Fembot designed specifically for your pleasure.

This one I feel really deserves no explanation–it should be an obvious fact of life. But it is shocking to me how often men themselves are shocked by a woman who will talk about sex with frankness and openly say she enjoys it. And equally shocking to me are the assumptions some of them make based on that reality. I mean, come on fellas, is it really that rare these days? When a GUY talks to you about sex, do you assume he wants to fuck you, regardless of his orientation?

So for the record: just because I talk about sex with you doesn’t mean I want to have sex with you. It means simply that I like talking about sex as one of many topics I enjoy talking about. It doesn’t mean I am trying to turn you on, even if you do get turned on. Saying that I enjoy sex doesn’t mean I’m thinking of having it with you. Necessarily. Of course, any of those conditions may be true: in some cases I might want to fuck the guy I’m talking to, or tease him to arousal, or I might be thinking about having sex with him. But this is not the rule by a long shot.

…

End point: A blog gives you very little to go on. Even when people are totally genuine, we are all of us more than we appear in the little glimpses of ourselves we give you. I myself have been surprised multiple times when I’ve met online people in real life and something about them has completely clashed with my perception of them.

And, I will end by posing to my readers the same questions Miss Syl poses to hers (the “what do I look like” one is less relevant, since I post plenty of photos).

I’m curious: Just for fun, what image of me do/did you have in your head? What do I look like, sound like, act like, dress like? I promise to debunk all misconceptions offered with the real picture (unless you ask me not to).

And for those of you who already know me off blog a bit–or for anyone else–what misperceptions do you run into most between your writing and in-the-flesh selves?

Yet another excellent Naked City column from Ren, wherein she answers the oh-so-frequently asked question, “What’s the hardest part of your job?” An excerpt:

Well, I can say this truthfully and with authority. It’s not the weird hours. It’s not the seven-inch heels. It’s not the fasting and enemas before an anal scene. It’s not the rough fucking, or the getting groped by drunk guys, or body upkeep, or getting throat-fucked. It’s not the hustle, it’s not the strangers, it’s not the getting naked, it’s not the physical work. It’s not the waxing, it’s not the tit job, it’s not the scrubbing cum out of my hair. It’s not the names, it’s not STD testing, it’s not the crawling on all fours to pick up tip money off the floor.

It’s the objectification. From normal people. With their normal lives and abnormal questions. That is the hardest part, and it’s not even a hard part that feels good. I like my job, I have bad days, but mostly I love what I do, and I take pride in my work. The hardest part is normal people not getting that, then asking me how old was I when I first took it in the ass, how many guys have I fucked, and do I know where they could score some blow? It’s being made someone’s argument against my industry. It’s being not quite human to a whole lot of people. Normal people. Who I find myself liking less and less each day.

Figleaf posts about pole dancing, and includes this footnote:

[Quick note: The post by 100% Injury Rate, the source of the version of photo I used, above, mentions that the Australian program teaches girls *and* boys, which is at least one step in a positive direction, although it sounds like it's for kids as early as age seven. --fl]

I’m just going to repost the comment I left over there:

I don’t understand why something has to be done by boys/men for it to be seen as valid.

And Figleaf, as I’m sure you will appreciate, if I see one more person dismissively refer to pole dancing as “spreading your legs around a pole” and otherwise talking out of their ass about it, my head is going to fucking explode. Seriously people. If you have never tried it? SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT. You don’t know what you’re talking about.

I have NO patience for this. NONE.

On a side note, Figleaf, if you are reading this, I have to say… you know I value and respect your writing, but I’ve been pretty baffled by some of the things you’ve written lately, and what appears to be (in many cases) a regression to more “conservative” sexual and social views. What gives?

And no, before anybody asks, I am not going to fly off the handle about “OMG they’re teaching pole dancing to children!!!“, which is what the expected/approved reaction seems to be. Look. Perceptions never change if we don’t challenge them. Get the fuck over it. And, the meaning of something is different depending on the context! This should not be a difficult concept! (Jenny, I know you’ve written about this, but if it was on your blog, I can’t find the post right now. Or maybe it was in a comment here?) Yes, pole dancing originated in strip clubs. So what?? Jazz music has its roots in slavery… does that mean if you like jazz you’re giving the stamp of approval to slavery?

(Besides, kids climb on poles all the time, we just don’t call it “pole dancing!”)

From Chris Hall at Sex in the Public Square (be sure to read the full post). Chris is a wonderful writer.

The real tragedy of [Palfrey's] death, from where I’m standing, is not anything extraordinary about her story, but how common and familiar it is, to the point of being cliché. If the story of Deborah Jean Palfrey had been laid out in a novel or play or screenplay, I would be angry at having my time wasted by a writer who was unable or unwilling to rise above cheap hackery that was old and worn out in the days of the Victorian penny dreadfuls. But Palfrey was a real person, and it makes me sick and angry to think how often the lives of people who should live peaceful, untroubled lives are forced into old patterns.

When I heard that Palfrey had hung herself, one of the first things that I thought of was the story of Ida Craddock. Craddock was a freethinker and feminist who wrote several sexual education manuals and pamphlets in the late 19th century. She was hounded and pursued for over a decade by the moralists of the day, in particular the infamous Anthony Comstock. In 1902, she was finally convicted for sending obscene materials through the mail and sentenced to five years in prison. Craddock was 45 years old at the time of her conviction and didn’t think that she could survive her sentence; the night before she was supposed to report for incarceration, she slit her wrists. Comstock showed no signs of regretting her suicide; in fact, he commonly bragged that he had driven as many as 15 people to suicide in his crusade for public morality.

One hundred and six years later, I want Ida Craddock’s story to seem quaint and old-fashioned, like an aged relic of less enlightened times. But Deborah Jean Palfrey is dead, hung from the neck by a nylon rope; her former employee, Brandy Britton, went the same way. David Vitter is still in the Senate. So it goes.

In the eye of the media, Palfrey’s death was regarded almost without a blasé fascination, as if the urge for a woman who transgressed to hang herself in her mother’s shed was as natural and unavoidable as birds migrating. And it seems unbelievable that one hundred and six years after Ida Craddock, we have to work so hard to justify not only the course that she chose to make for her life, but that we also have to fight to make others see that her death was a stupid waste, and not the inevitable end to a badly-written melodrama.

What we do, all the blogging and writing and organizing sometimes can seem futile, especially with stories like Palfrey’s. The one thing that we can be grateful for, in a somewhat grim way, is that Palfrey had to do more than merely write about sex before she was hounded and shamed into her grave. That, at least, is something that we’ve accomplished in the one hundred years since Ida Craddock opened her veins with a straight razor. But it’s not enough.

And I’m crying, again.

Yeah, I’ve mentioned before that I can be pretty emotional, and cry at inopportune times. But this week, I think it’s appropriate.

Commenter “Could Be Your Sister” on Bound, Not Gagged:

There are a number of things that I simply do not discuss openly because of my activism for sex workers rights.

If I say I was never sexually abused or never worked the streets or never had a drug problem, then I automatically become some exception.

If I am an abuse survivor or did street-work or ever used drugs, then I instantly prove their theories.

It’s too often a no-win situation, where my truth is not welcome.

(Yes, I give them a ton of pingbacks… because they deserve ‘em! People, if you’re not reading BNG, you really need to start.)

I keep quoting people who say the stuff I struggle to put into words, but can’t get quite right. So, here we go… Melissa nails it again:

On the abuse issue, I try to reframe it around either:

1) 1 in 6 women in their lifetimes are survivors of sexual abuse or assault, and clearly not all of them become sex workers.

2) We never ask how often women in other helping/service professions do that work as part of their being survivors. The number of rape crisis counselors and educators I have worked with who are survivors is HUGE, for example. In a way, that makes sense. In another, it can be very damaging.

As a culture right now everyone’s so quick to pin adult sexual behavior (and sex work as part of that) on some childhood trauma. “What MADE you that way?” is one of the only questions people who don’t understand human sexual variation and the sex industry ask. It’s part of the discourse of sex right now, and it’s infuriating as a sex worker *and* a survivor . It’s about context, though. When it comes to something like The View, I don’t know how I’d talk about sex work and sexual abuse and not have everything I said manipulated. There can be solid reasons to be strategic about discussing abuse, but I hate feeling like we “can’t” because we’d somehow damage the movement.

The media (and hell, society in general) just doesn’t get it.

Audacia Ray, former sex worker and editor of the sex worker magazine $pread, has pointed out that the public doesn’t even seem to understand what exploitation really means. The woman who did sex work for Spitzer has had her picture and personal history splattered all over the media in an incredibly insulting way. Nobody seems to realize she’s being degraded far more now than she ever was when Spitzer was her client. And she’s not getting any retirement savings out of it, either.

And, funnily enough, I haven’t noticed a whole lot of “media critics” talking about this point. It’s been mostly… *crickets*.

Guess what, the definition of exploitation is not “a type of sex that makes me uncomfortable.”

I have more to say about the Alternet article (which, interestingly, had its title changed sometime between last night and this morning) because there are a few points where I disagree with Annalee, and a few points I just want to expand on. But I’ll get to that later.

Elizabeth agrees with me, anyway.

My real anger, though, actually comes from Dominus’s acceptance of the term “high class.” I know that is the term that much of the press has been using to describe the escort service in question. But to accept its use and to apply it to people is appalling.

“High class” is a value judgement and a way of obscuring the real stratification of wealth, power and privilege in the United States. Why not talk about the upper class, the elite, or the working class or the middle class, which are much more meaningfully descriptive?

Read her whole post; her analysis is spot-on, as usual.

BNG keeps crankin’ out the good stuff. As such, I keep giving them a crap-ton of pingbacks.

Most recently, there’s this post from existentialhedonist, entitled The media, gender, and representation:

I think the media’s obsession with Kristen’s childhood ties directly into the prohibitionists’ habit of using the term “girls” when referring to sex workers who are between 18 and 28. It seems to be a form of infantilizing women when they exercise their sexual and economic autonomy. It reminds me of the Swedish model, and it makes me want to wretch.

How about talking about her strength in overcoming a challenging youth to grow up and land a job that paid her for one hour more than most of her critics will see in a month? How about talking about her strength in the face of this onslaught of media attention and scrutiny? How she hasn’t cowered off into some corner- how she has kept her myspace page up, and how so many of the comments there are full of love and support in the face of this?

Kristen deserves to be seen for the amazing and strong woman she is. The obsession with her childhood is simply a cheap ploy to diminish the inherent fortitude of a person who faces challenges head on and rises above and beyond to become a creative entrepreneur beholden to nobody but herself. This is the hallmark of successful sex workers everywhere, and something that must be quashed by society lest more of us become such entrepreneurs.

I think it is important for the media and people like Farley to portray us as broken and weak people. It is ironic that some of them actually do this in the name of “feminism.” The truth is that the “abused girl” thing has to be played up to create a smokescreen to hide the reality: sex workers like Kristen don’t need you or anyone else to validate them. That is power. And that is dangerous.

Check it out.

Interestingly (or not), a lot of regular “media critic” sites have been deafeningly silent on this whole thing.

Via Bound, Not Gagged

From Kerry Howley, senior editor at Reason magazine:

Everyone seems to assume that legalizing sex work will reinforce all sorts of ugly cultural phenomena women struggle against all the time. Writes one commenter at Feministing, “I’m politically liberal, openly feminist, and opposed to sex work precisely” because of “patriarchy” and “heterosexuality issues.”

I find this incoherent precisely because I share all the poster’s intuitions about problematic cultural norms. Of course sexism restricts autonomy in all sorts of ways that deserve consideration when discussing the prevalence of prostitution or the choice to enter sex work. Of course it’s deplorable that sexually adventurous young women are constantly told they are “degrading themselves” by seeking out various experiences, that every bit of enjoyment eats away at some secret store of purity. This whole tradition-the idea that women need be preserved in glass so as not to “ruin” themselves, lest they diminish their sexual value by “giving it away”-restricts the lived autonomy of women in ways I can’t even begin to articulate. None of the slut-shaming makes sense unless you assume women live to give themselves to men in their purest possible form.

If you find all of these cultural pathologies unfortunate, what is the public policy you should prefer? It seems to me that it is not the policy that deems it a crime against the American people to open your legs. Anti-prostitution laws add a layer of legal sanction to all of our worst intuitions about the treatment of sexually independent women; they strengthen and validate the idea that women who bed men with any frequency are sick, marginal, pariahs.

Scratch that; submitted with the only comment being, “Are you fucking kidding me??”

DEAR ABBY: There seems to be an awful lot of women exposing themselves on the Internet in graphic sexual fashion. My wife says that men degrade themselves by looking at them.

My question to you is, what is more degrading? Looking at them, or women exposing themselves? — WONDERING IN PUYALLUP, WASH.

DEAR WONDERING: For a woman to post graphic sexual images for people she doesn’t know to view strikes me as more degrading because it indicates that she thinks she has little else to offer.

However, for a married man to view those images could also be considered degrading — and threatening — to his wife. Many women have written to me because their husbands spend more time looking at porn on the Internet than having a sex life in their own bedroom. In other words, the practice became an addiction.

*headdesk*

Again, I ask, “Why oh WHY do so many people persist in the idiotic belief that taking nude photos of yourself means you have no self-respect??”

I do not understand.

[Via Dacia]

This is an updated video, a follow-up to the one I posted yesterday. Watch it!

[Via Pro-Porn Activism]

Most of the activism I am really passionate about is related to sexuality. That’s because I am simply unable to divorce sexuality from the rest of my being; it’s such a fundamental part of who I am, that I can’t imagine just taking it on and off like a jacket. I’m not good at compartmentalizing, and I don’t think it should be a requirement for social justice activism. “Yes, work for social justice - as long as you keep this part of you that kind of makes us uncomfortable out of it.”

I can’t do that. To be human is to be sexual; even people who identify as asexual are claiming an identity regarding their sexuality. One of the quotes in my header quote rotation is from Kochanie, and it sums up my feeling on the matter: “I am sex, I am my body, and my sex, my mind and my body have never been separate.”

There’s been a lot of talk here lately about sex work, and I know some people are wondering why I am so passionate about sex workers’ rights activism, in particular. I’ll list a few reasons:*
Read the full post »

Question: “Why did you decide to work in the web industry?”

Answer: “It’s fun, challenging, and there’s always something new to learn.”

If someone asked me the above question, I would reply with the above answer. That would be a satisfactory answer, and the conversation would move on. Maybe we’d talk about web development, technology, etc., or maybe we’d move to other topics. Either way, I know my answer wouldn’t be followed by prying questions like:

“But why? What do you find so fun and challenging about it?”

“Are you sure there isn’t something else you’d rather be doing? You have so much potential!”

“Why do you need to prove yourself by writing code? You’re more than just a nameless, faceless code-writing machine, you know!”

“What could you possibly learn? It’s simple HTML.”

“Come on, let’s be honest. It’s not really work. Any idiot who knows how to use Google can figure out everything you need to know for your job.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be doing something that contributes to humanity?”

“How can you be so selfish?”

“You know, a lot of people don’t have the luxury to be able to pursue a career they enjoy. So who do you think you are? And what are you going to do about that?”

“Do you have problems meeting people? I heard web nerds are socially awkward and don’t know how to interact in real life.”

“What does your boyfriend think of what you do for a living?”

If I were unwilling to answer any and all of these follow-up questions? Oh, the poor dear. I’m clearly in denial about something. Why am I so defensive?

And what if I had simply answered, to the original question: “I have to pay the bills, and web development pays better than retail.” That would be an acceptable answer, too. There might be laughter, nods of agreement, conspiratorial smiles. There most certainly would not be frowns of pity and a soliloquy about how awful that is.

But replace “web” with “sex” in the original question above, and it’s an entirely different ballgame.

If I were to end this post right here, I guarantee you someone would come along and leave a comment along the lines of, “But but but… Some sex workers do have low self-esteem! Some of them are addicted to drugs! Some of them would rather be doing something else!”

To that I say, well, some web developers are socially awkward and don’t know how to interact in real life. Some Asians are bad drivers. Some black dudes carry concealed weapons. Some feminists hate men.

There will always be some people who fit a particular stereotype. But - and I shouldn’t even have to say this, right? - that doesn’t mean stereotypes are A-okay.

Because the fact is, some white people are bad drivers and/or carry concealed weapons. It’s worth examining why the stereotype is there for one particular group and not another. We know this.

And yet it all goes out the window when the topic is sex work. Somehow, otherwise intelligent, thoughtful, open-minded people lose their shit.

I know the stereotypes about sex work are deeply embedded in society - really, really deeply embedded. But that doesn’t make it okay to simply accept them without question. In fact, it makes questioning the dominant paradigm (that’s right, I said “dominant paradigm!”) even more imperative.

Guess I need to add a #8 to this list…

Just because someone says it’s his/her CHOICE to be a bank robber, a terrorist, a homicidal killer, a prostitute, a porn industry worker…. that makes the CHOICE and that “profession” acceptable and legitimate?? Some may have obvious and tangible negative consequences on others, but worse are those with subtle, insidious, and intangible negative consequences. Wake up!

The stupid! It burrrrnnnnnssss!!

You see? THIS is yet another example of why I don’t read the so-called “A-List” blogs. (And let’s not even get started on the even more “mainstream” ones like Daily Kos. Or the mainstream media such as the New York goddamn Times. Just fuck me in the ass with a football bat already, as Queer Dewd would say.)

Fortunately, Ren is going to make an “arguments about sex work” Bingo card. I can’t wait to see it.

Also, to be fair (I guess), some of the other commenters on the Feministe post give the dumbass equation of “sex worker” == “terrorist” a good dressing down. Unfortunately, even most of them still seem hung up on “sex worker” == “victim,” which isn’t a whole lot better. They seem to think Bob Herbert is generally A-okay. And the concern trolls going on and on about how they’re so worried about sex workers spreading STIs makes me lose my appetite.

People and their hang-ups… GOD!

Generally, I’m not real big on New Year’s resolutions (although Rusty and I do have a joint resolution [har] this year to recycle more, and in fact I’m about to go to Target to buy some recycling container thingies), but Figleaf has a resolution I can definitely get behind:

Oh yeah, and *especially* for those of us who are heterosexual, as long as we’re exploring, let’s explore some new ways to be healthy, happy, and horny-together human beings without dragging quite so many misery-inducing stereotypes into bed with us.

Sometimes, the best way to make a point stick is to turn it around on the people who are being obnoxious with their “concern” and their entreaties to “examine” (but never to judge, no, never!).

Via Trinity:

WHAT CAUSES VANILLA?

How long have you been vanilla?

Are you sure that you’re not simply too nervous to submit or dominate because past traumas make you too nervous to relate to others on a truly intimate level?

Have you ever really examined your vanilla desires?

The vast majority of sexuality depicted in the media is vanilla. Are you sure your desires now don’t stem from not seeing alternate models much in the media?

How can you experience true intimacy with someone if you’re afraid to share erotic pain with them? Aren’t you missing something?

It’s really a shame that our screwed up vanilla-normative society ruined you like that.

Oh, I’m not telling you what to DO. I’d never do that. But it’s such a shame that you HAVE to.

Oh, I’ve been involved in some vanilla things myself, but I’m better than the rest because I realize that when the SMers say we should question, they’re right! I try not to get too involved.

I’m not trying to diss those who want to create egalitarian relationships for themselves, but it’s so played out and socially normative. I’m going to go create my own communities wherein we strive to create truly hierarchical relationships. It really saddens me to see people stuck invested in the same old eroticization of sameness.

When people tell me that I’m just saying all of this because my own proclivities are sadomasochistic it makes me so SAD. Don’t they see that this is BIGGER THAN THE PERSONAL?

Even I have vanilla fantasies now and then. It’s impossible not to in a society like this one. I’m not the enemy!

Not so much fun when it’s turned around, is it? In fact, it’s pretty annoying!

Transcript of a story told to me over IM… (Posted all in a row like this, it looks kind of like poetry, with all the line breaks. And that makes it even funnier.)

—

so my roomie was showing me stuff around the apartment
and he was like, “this is where my videos are
feel free to watch any whenever you want”
and then he gets this slightly sheepish look on his face
and he’s like, “um, there might be some porn in there.”
and i say, “i don’t care.”
and he rushes on, “it’s all softcore stuff, like playboy. i mean, there’s nothing hardcore.”
to which i reply, “well, that’s a shame.”
and he looks at me like i have two heads or something
and i’m like, “i really don’t care.”
and he starts stuttering apologies/justification
and i’m like, “really, I DON’T CARE.”
and he stops and he’s like, “so, what. women watch porn?”
and i’m about to fall down b/c i’m trying so hard not to laugh
b/c he’s SO sincere
and i’m like, “look.”
“one of my friends has been taking pictures to be naked on the internet…”
“and another sent me an email this morning asking what i thought about searching for a fuckbuddy on craigslist”
i REALLY DON’T CARE that you have porn.
“unless it’s tony comstock. then i care.”
…which he didn’t understand, but that’s probably just as well. :)
anyway
that made MY day.
first time he’s lived with a girl. :)

—

Heh.

[Cross-posted at Pro-Porn Activism]