Why I'm Here

I only really discovered the internet about 2 years ago. My last Sugar Daddy got me a laptop computer for Christmas, and I had no idea what to do with it. So it kinda sat there for a while, untouched, until I got an iPod. Then I went crazy. Once I figured out how to use it for music, I started to finally play around on the internet.

At first I started to look for anything regarding myself . That’s when I first saw a “review” of the Business in one of those adult chat rooms about massage parlors. Let me tell ya, when I first saw my name on that screen I freaked! There it was for the whole world to see – a description of some guys session with me. Thank Gawd he didn’t know my full name or I probably would have had a heart attack.

After I had calmed down a little bit, I realized that he didn’t say anything particularly bad. It was just a quick description of where we were and how much we charged. All he said about me was that I was “cool”, had “fabulous” breasts, and I wasn’t full service.

But this got me thinking… What if he had written something bad? What if he had lied and said we were full-service? What if he were a stalker and started posting all sorts of personal stuff about me and my co-workers? This type of thinking only made me panic all over again. I tried to figure out how I could erase this stuff and realized I couldn’t.

Now Trina and I have always said that one of the most frustrating things about our job is that the only people you can talk to about work are co-workers. Anytime you want to bitch about a customer, or tell a funny story – you can’t. It’s 8 hours of my day that I can’t just share with anyone whenever I feel like it. Shit, even if you’re a rocket scientist you can still bitch about work to a stranger – they may not understand a word of it, but at least you can do it.

We can’t do that unless it’s to each other! Can you imagine what that feels like? So Trina and I used to talk about how great it would be if we could tell some of these wacky stories of ours to anyone without being judged. Then one day when I was swapping stories with a customer, he said I should talk about these in a “blog.” I said what the hell is that, and he said that people write all sorts of shit on the internet and they’re called blogs.

Well, I told my techno-nerd Velma to go get me a “Blog.” Then last December Velma set me up here on this site and told me to go to town. And the rest is history.

At first I didn’t know what to write about, so I just talked about my day. Heck – I only had 2 other people to impress. Then I thought it might be interesting to talk about not just what I do, but how things work in a Business. And then there was Trina to remind me of some of the really whacked customers we’ve had in the past. And lastly, I wanted to remember my time with Cindy back when business was wild and life was crazy.

And that was it. I just started to have a fun time talking about all this stuff (in some cases, for the first time in years). And I liked getting positive comments from people out there who seemed to enjoy it. Then I started reading other peoples blogs, and in some cases some fellow masseuses with similar stories. And let me tell ya, it felt kinda good to be able to throw some stuff out there and get some feedback from people who are not in the Business.

Then I read some stuff that really began to piss me off.

So here I am, just doing my thing when I discover that I’m labeled as a “sex blog.” You mean I’m actually lumped in together with guys who write to Penthouse Forum? Let me tell you something – I find it hard enough to use the term “sex worker” – now I’m just a sex blogger?

Then to make things worse, I read somebody saying that sex blogs are “…all the same…” which really really really hurt my feelings. What the fuck??? At first, I was this sort of society outcast that had to keep half my life secret from the other half. Then when I finally decide to speak up for myself and say “Hey – these things really happened to me” some stupid fuck labels me and says I’m the same as everybody else who “confesses” anything.

Well ya know what? Fuck you. Until you’ve jerked off 30 guys in 1 day, or been thrown against a wall by a 300 pound customer, or had $1,000 taken from your purse by a coworker, or been told by your boss to suck his cock to keep your job, you really aren’t in a position to say I’m the same as anybody else. In fact, you really aren’t in a position to judge anything about me.

Now talking about this is really hard for me since I’ve said before that I don’t like getting personal on this thing. So if no one minds, I’d like to get back to the fun stuff that I like talking about.

Enough said.

CJ