I can't see any readers if I want to remain anonymous

That is probably the most common thing I say in emails. I really wish I didn't have to say it since we could really use the business, but I need to protect myself. Most guys are cool with it, but then there are some of my more zealous fans who try flattery, bribery and on the rare occasion cajolery to get me to change my mind.

I think the most imaginative idea was a private limo to take me to a hotel where my prospective customer would be waiting blindfolded. He would never see me and I would get to practice my craft in total anonymity. Hmmmmm... the blindfolded option. I can see it now... blindfolds, scented candles, feathers, soft music.

But I digress.

This brings me to my most insistent of fans. The guys who just won't take no for an answer. They beg. They lie. They threaten. I'm used to it. There's just something amusing about a guy threatening to call the cops, or out me over the internet. Heck, one guy said that if I saw him as a customer, he would protect me from all the other nutcases who were threatening me. Now that's original.

So when my Techno-Nerd Velma told me that someone was trying to post addresses where they might find me, she took matters into her own hands and deleted them. The way I see it, it's probably best if I don't show any addresses for any place around here. This is the dilemma...

Let's say someone actually figures out where I am and gives out the real address. There might be an increase in business, but more likely there will be some very nice men in crisp, clean uniforms asking me to explain this written journal documenting several years worth of prosecutable offenses.

Now let's say someone posts the address for another business. Do I care? Our competitor gets more customers. But chances are some unsuspecting girls are going to end up getting harassed too. So it ends up being a lose-lose for everyone.

The truth is that since I've started this blog, lots of guys have now found me. At this point I probably get 1 or 2 guys a month that ask if I am or know CJ. And I tell them what I tell everyone else... "What the heck are you talking about?" And I can say that here because chances are that's what girls all over the valley are saying every day.

So I'm going to let Velma keep an eye on the blog and maybe even turn off the comments feature for now. Sorry about that guys. I really want some of this drama to end so I can get back to some good old fashioned tales of perversion!

CJ

Erotic Massage and the Internet

In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m pretty computer illiterate. I can just about manage to post these blogs by myself, but that’s it. As you can see, this page is pretty plain since I can’t figure out how to add a background or a list of my favorite blogs. All I’ve figure out how to do on my own is post the occasional picture.

My partner-in-crime (Velma) helped me set this up, and I’ve taken it over from her. But she occasionally logs on and corrects my spelling and grammar. And in case you were wondering, only 2 people on the whole planet know I have this website – Trina and Velma. Trina because she’s my best friend and she helps me come up with topics, and Velma because she’s my techno-nerd and Go-To-Girl when my computer freezes up.

Now until I can get him to create one of those lists of my favorite blogs, let me give a shout-out to some of my favorites. Of course I read “Confessions of a College Callgirl” (who doesn’t), but my favorite is Slutty McWhore. Just like yours truly, she’s an Erotic Massage Therapist. But what I love about her is that she does what I can’t bring myself to do – talk about her personal life. It’s funny – she recently told the story of how she revealed to her boyfriend what she does for a living. When I first read it, I was literally yelling at my laptop “Nooooo!!!! Don’t do it!!!!!” I haven’t yelled at a screen that loudly since they took Temptation Island off the air. Another one I like is A Date in the Life. It’s like all my dating stories but better written. She makes me feel like I’m not the only 1 who goes through that emotional crap.

My first real encounter with the internet was a couple years ago when out of boredom I did a search for myself on google. My full name is common enough, so there were like a million entries. Apparently I placed 17th in a 5k race somewhere in Iowa, and I was arrested for stabbing a man in San Antonio. So out of curiosity I tried narrowing it down using the name of the Business – and Bingo!!! I actually found an article posted in one of those adult sex chat rooms about massage parlors that mentioned me. Holy Shit I’m famous!

It was one of those sites where guys can give reviews and descriptions about the massage places they’ve been to. Some guy who I don’t remember left a review about the Business. He said that our place was very clean, and the staff friendly. Pointed out up front that we’re NOT full service. Said that his masseuse (yours truly) had “fabulous tits” and didn’t make him feel rushed. After reading more articles from that site I realized that not being rushed is actually a compliment. I then searched the internet for anything else on me and the co-workers, but nothing. I managed to find a few more references to the Business (location and hours), but nothing more about the masseuses. Oh well – so much for my 15 minutes of fame.

When I first saw my name up there on the computer screen for the whole world to see (well the perverted, trenchcoat wearing world that is) I have to admit that I was a bit creeped out. At first I thought - What if anyone I knew saw this? Then - What would I do if they had said anything bad? But eventually I wondered - Will this help me get customers? So after a while, I wasn’t creeped out anymore and actually felt complimented. He DID say something nice after all (I take them when I can get them, right?).

But now that I have my own blog, I get total control over what’s said about ME. And let me tell ya – it feels nice. And you guys really make me feel welcomed out here, so thanks a lot. It’s nice to know that my whole internet notoriety no longer consists of 3 sentences written by an anonymous guy in an adult chat room somewhere.