Things have been a little dark lately. Ugh. Girl you better turn it down on all them emotions and stuff!! I completely agree. So with that in mind, I’ve started to think a little about the life I’ve created for myself. Yes, I did just get a Master’s degree but why should that limit my career choices? The answer is that it shouldn’t. It’s time I start broadening my horizons and considering other directions for myself. For example, what about becoming a stripper? Admittedly, I don’t currently have that 36-24-36 physique I know so many of you lovely gentlemen love. But given how few men want to date me but definitely want to fuck me, I have to think that there are a lot more
horribly awesome bros who dig this fatty (see what I did there? you’re thinking is she talking about a huge sexy booty or a huge sexy body and you’ll never know!! – unless you’re internet-adept enough to find me on facebook and see for yourself [hint: it literally couldn’t be easier]). Regardless, I hate the idea that I would make a career decision based on dudes so the following is a quick analysis of whether stripping (vs. writing) is write (you’re welcome for this witty wordplay) for me.
Stripper: Paid cardio!! I work well for cash incentives. I’ve never lost more weight than the summer I decided to make losing weight my “job”. So imagine if I could not only make losing weight my job but literally earn extra money doing it? I’d be a size 12 (because let’s be realistic) in no time!
Writer: Writing is mostly just a lot of crying, pacing, and self-doubt. If you cry hard enough, it’s a workout. Not to mention, if you’re already dead inside, you don’t need cardio (though I think this could probably apply to both being a writer and a stripper).
Dating is not going well (I’m lucky if I can find a dude whose not trying to drive me up the mountain to murder me, long enough to have a discussion worthy of making me want him in my bedroom). So, needless to say, all my best moves are going unused and unappreciated.
Stripper: Who better to cherish my otherwise unused hump techniques than someone willing to slide some lucky loonies in this lady’s lingerie. ♪♫ I’m your private dancer ♪♫ well…I mean…until the next guy asks for a private dance because this is a business bro, no hard feelings (except that cock poking into my thigh)
Writer: Have you ever heard of a happy ending? Do you know who made the story work out that way? That’s right, it was the writer. As a writer I could legitimately write myself a happy ending. And that ain’t peanuts.
(or wait, maybe I need to say more. I have a huge student loan…was that clear enough?)
Stripper: I have to pay my HUGE student loan (HOW BIG IS IT?!?! IT’S SO BIG EVEN I WOULDN’T FUCK IT! – I’m sorry, I’m the worst) and the money earned stripping would really come in handy (speaking of handy’s do strippers give those or just sex workers?) Either way, I’m super good at handy’s, just thought I’d mention that (kind of the way someone who used to work with floppy disks would bring it up at a job interview for coding)…no one really cares about the thing that I do well, which no one really wants anymore, but I haven’t got a lot of skills and/or pride so I have to casually mention it anyway.
Writer: Abject poverty sounds great when you have the freedom to leave the country and your credit report behind but turns out you can’t file bankruptcy on student loans. This means I actually have to earn the money, and while some people are really great writers – writing brilliantly and publishing prolifically – I’m tolerable at best and may need to rethink my money making strategies. Perhaps a future writing erotic novels for prisoners? Or, maybe writing technical manuals for children (somebody has to tell those minions how to put my NIKEs together)? Or, what about writing hack jokes on cardboard signs in metro stations (which seems a likely progression of my financial plan)? Regardless, writing sounds like a gas. I’m super excited.
Stripper: In the scenario I’ve dreamed up, given that I’m in the upper eschalon of stripping, it’s probably pretty glamorous. Old men wanting me to touch but not really touch their balls. Women in boas crying into my boobs because they’re getting married tomorrow. It’s basically a trip to the playboy mansion (which I can only assume is super fun given the pools of vag swimming around and old dudes galore). But here’s the thing, it might be hard to make meaningful connections with people, the more that I see what the world is really made of (hint: it’s not cake batter).
Writer: Writers don’t have friends, we have readers (jk, we often have neither, apparently someone has caught on to the fact that we’re total assholes). But seriously, know that if you’re friends with a writer at some point they’ll probably say things like “workshopping” and “has your work earned this cliche?” and “can you lend me money I’m starving to death”, and you’ll have to stick by them because you’re friends – that’s just a part of the burden. Learn to bear it. Also, make sure you own a poncho because sometimes the constant crying will seem more like a torrential downpour.
Stripper: People always say things like how disappointed their parents would be if they took their clothes off for money, and how sad and shame-filled it would be to make money off of your body. But you know who does that?: athletes, models, manual laborers, and I’m sure some other people too. Sure, they mostly (see: models) do it with their clothes on but aren’t clothes really just the religious patriarchy trying to control women (as they have for centuries)? You’re goddamn right it is. That being said, you want to know what’s really shameful? (hint: I’m going to bring up my student loan debt again). Nothing says, “Vicki you’re a huge fucking disappointment” quite like imagining the only world in which you ever pay off your debt is the one in which your parents die and your inheritance goes straight to the government. Oh thank god, finally a reprieve I can look forward to!
Writer: Have you ever had a family member who was a writer? If you can’t remember right away, ask yourself if you know anyone who has lived with their parents longer than normal? Have they at any point in their life published a ‘zine? Gross. They’re a writer. Back away before they can smell your high paying job. The only loophole to this is the possibility that they are one of the few writers that can actually make a living doing this thing with the words and the page and the whatnot. And then, honestly, still you should back away. Best case scenario they end up super rich and invite you over for parties and have all the family gatherings at their Cali mansion, catered by some gourmet vegan celebrity chef. But even then you should know that everything you say and do will always be up for grabs. They will scrutinize, and judge, write down your conversations and then make them better (or worse, depending on whether or not they like you). Every mistake you make could be fodder for their next big work. But hey, have you tried the vegan cheesecake? maybe a little critique ain’t so bad.
Donuts are an important part of everyone’s life. No distinction should be made between strippers and writers when it comes to donuts. Donuts are the great equalizer. Never say no to donuts, I know I certainly don’ut.