WTF?

Holy Shit.

The last thing I remember is telling you guys that I finally got around to answering questions. Then I check in yesterday and discover everyone went postal on each other. That's what happens when I leave you guys unsupervised for a week. And to make matters even worse, I found a few highly uncomfortable items in the comments that I had to remove. Now before you start bitching about how everyone is entitled to their opinion, well let me remind you that this is MY blog. So there.

At first I was amused about some of the comments and I was fully planning on responding. However, I soon realized that things kinda got carried away and it wasn't going to be that simple. Now I wish you guys out there would stop using "Anon" because it makes it hard to keep track of who said what. So I think I'll address what I see as the general topics.

Let's begin with a story, shall we?
About every month or so, 2 town cops park at the far end of our strip mall. We call them the Blues Brothers, because they wear dark glasses and sit in a cop car. They show up to scare off customers for a few hours and to show the locals that they're on the job (personally, I think it's the guy next door that calls them). Business slows down for a few hours, then picks up when they leave.

With 2 policemen sitting right outside our door on a regular basis, they have yet to bust in and shut us down. So I sincerely doubt that the key to cracking "The Mystery of the Anonymous Happy Ending" was discovered by a particularly overzealous reader spending months surfing websites about handjobs. When he finally called the "DoJ" to report an anonymous girl telling stories about anonymous men at an undisclosed location receiving unsubstantiated sexual favors, I kinda doubt their reaction was "We hope he found all his evidence on the internet!" And honestly, the DOJ? Please. At least make up something believable next time.

The Search For CJ
When I first started confessing what a typical day is like in a massage parlor, I thought it would be funny if someone actually figured out who I was. I think I even offered a freebie or something to the first person to come in and mention the name "happyendingz." Boy was I wrong.

The first time a customer mentioned the blog, I was scared shitless. Suddenly the reality of it hit me - confessing secrets anonymously on the internet wasn't as easy as I thought it was going to be. I don't know which one of you Anons said it, but I don't think the readers are morons. Heck, quite a few readers have been in The Business since I started this blog. But I can honestly say that not a single one of them have found the real "CJ" because I have never admitted to it. What I have discovered is that a lot of guys out there have found A CJ, not THE CJ.

Turns out some of the local girls have confessed to being CJ to make a few extra bucks. I've heard this from friends at other parlors (more on this later), and a couple customers. Kinda creepy when you think about it. But if I find it creepy, I can only imagine what it must be like for all my fellow masseuses in the Delaware Valley. I wonder what they think of the whole "Are you CJ?" thing?

Promi$cuity
You know who I hate? Waitresses. Bunch of fucking stuck up bitches. The other day I walk into a restaurant and I ask for a grilled cheese sandwich. After enjoying my sandwich (and diet coke), she has the nerve to hand me a bill for my sandwich! I was like "What the fuck? I can get this at home for free. Where do YOU get off charging me money for something that I can get at home for nothing." That's the problem with restaurants - they would be a lot more fun if it weren't for all these assholes asking you for money. I love to eat, but it becomes demeaning and exploitive when money gets involved.

THIS is what I thought of that comment about promiscuity and money.

CJ is a Dirty Whore - or What Am I Doing Here?
I always find it amusing when people have critical things to say about me or my job. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and I even appreciate the occasional "You should save your money and get a real job." Hey - that's the plan.

But what I really don't understand are the people who insist on defining me as a whore, slut, skank, etc. The purpose of this whole confessions thing is not to get your approval for what I do - it's to inform you on what really goes on in this industry, and hopefully give you a laugh at the same time. But these guys who are really angry and spiteful with me, it's almost like they keep reading and reading every week in the hopes that one day I'll end a story with...

"... it suddenly occurred to me as I had my left hand wrapped around his cock and 2 fingers up his ass while I whistled the Star Spangled Banner, that what I was doing might be wrong. And at that exact moment I decided to accept the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal savior and turn from my wicked sinful ways..."

To these people, let me remind you that this blog is about happy endings. Heck - it's right in the title!!! Have you noticed that every story ends with a handjob? You get a handjob! She gets a handjob! Everyone who walks through the door gets a handjob! Why are you guys continuously surprised and disappointed? If you're really that sensitive and would like your stories slightly less handjobby-ish, may I suggest you try www.Disney.com.

And for those of you still waiting for my conversion to the good side, let me remind you that I am a cradle born Catholic. Hypocrisy is my middle name.

Haters and Lovers
What can I say about the guys who have nice things to say about me and the blog - I love you guys! YOU get it. Read. Learn something new. Have a chuckle. Done. That's it. There really is no ulterior motive to this blog. I meet an interesting character in session. I tell you guys about it. And that's pretty much why I started confessing everything on the internet.

Those of you who don't believe me - fine. You try spending 40 hours a week in session naked with a stranger and NOT have something slightly peculiar happen. Those of you who think I intentionally lie to promote some sort of agenda - Great! I'm actually flattered that you think I'm a lot more than just some silly girl who gives happy endings for tips and then writes about it. But the fact of the matter is that I just write about what I see. And if it hasn't happened to me in this little corner of PA, then I know nothing about it.

And finally, to those of you who have actually paid attention to what I've said, taken notes, and have successfully gotten an erotic massage at a local parlor - good for you! You are the wind beneath my wings and the reason why I have so much fun doing what I do.

CJ