STRIPPING, FACT AND FICTION REVEALED THROUGH THE MEMOIR’S OF A SIN-DUSTRY NEWBIE…..Part 2 “The man called Stan”

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Day 2 — Stripper Hell — and a man called “Stan”

Days had passed since my ” premier” at club ( “stripper-hell”), I had struggled and thrown up and struggled some more. The decision to return was made from necessity not desire. When your older kids need clothing , your infant has no diapers, and formula is running low — not to mention “the sperm donor” is virtually M.I.A. the lengths you will go to just to provide — are astounding. 

Again I found myself in my car, circling the lot and reflecting on” HOW THE HELL IT WAS THAT I GOT HERE?”…. Marriage….Vows…Happily ever after’s….. WAKE UP HONEY — not in this story book. TEN years dedicated to “serving my husband”, “bearing his children”, “enduring his wrath and daily beatings”. But… Was I truly better off? ” Look at where you are I thought to myself”. You feel dirty, used, and un-human — despite the stigma of the “sexy “exotic-dancer / pole-goddess” — truth be told I felt like shit. Eye candy for some shmuck with too much money, and no real life. “DADDY ISSUES” HAH …That took on a whole new meaning for me, on this particular day.

Remembering my “outfits”, makeup, and all other stripper friendly materials, my “stripper-in-a-box” was more like roll away luggage, than a backpack of items — perhaps because I had yet to learn of the lockers in the changing room. You guessed it — put there to help us out  — although I believe so it didn’t seem like every dancer was slowly moving in.

I checked in at the desk, made my way to the locker room, and began the extravagant task of morphing into “pole dancing Barbie”. Then off to the stage to practice on the pole.  There was a 2 hour break between opening and closing of the club — during this time “we” could practice — though I seemed to be the only one needing it. Yet another half-clothed veteran of displayed nudity — offered some pointers to my sad,ok down right embarrassing excuse for pole moves and “dancing”. DAMN she was good. I watched in amazement as her body movements were fluid — flipping and swinging, ass over head, and reversing in one stealthy, sultry, swing of her perfectly toned self. “AWE SHIT — I’m so screwed” I thought to myself, as she slowly ushered me toward my personal Mt. Everest. Surprisingly I managed to learn quicker than I thought, and not half bad according to my “teacher”.  A glance at the clock and my stomach turned like I had guzzled sour milk — the doors were about to open…… TO THEM…….Gulp…Wave of nausea…Gulp number 2 — yeah sure I was ready — or not.

Ready or not they filed in like children after recess, each taking a seat and grabbing a stiff drink — pun intended. After my first 3 stage go-round, it was off to the floor to attempt some lap dance cash. But was I really ready for that? What would I do? How would I move? The rules were strict and important — last time I just swayed to the music and bent over a few times — feeling as though I might fall head first into god knows what. Well it was time to find out — it was time to really step-up my game — after all the whole point is to make money right?

As I scoured the now near capacity small side room,  I was summoned by an “interesting” looking guy — okay honestly — an overly attractive man who had NO earthly business in that place. He ordered me a drink, and we sat and chatted for quite a while. He wasn’t trying to get me to sit on his lap, play with his hair, or even talk me into some kind of extra’s. (sidenote you hear a lot of that type of thing, with 5 other dancers within ear-shot.) But “Stan” as he was called tried none of those tactics. He simply wanted to talk and know a bit about you before shelling out whatever dough he was wanting to spend that day. “Hmmmm a bit about me” I thought. EVERY girl had a “fake-back-story” — the favorite was I’m putting myself through college — HA- you’re 47 and done this your whole life. College???Really??? But whether ignorance or lack of interest in the truth — those women were never really questioned, or called-out on their bullshit. Me of course like an idiot I tell the truth. Why not it has to be better than some of these ridiculous stories right?

Finally Stan agrees to a special performance — a champagne room performance –“WAIT…WHAT”??..” What in the holy hell does that mean”? “Oh wait I’ve heard of these rooms” Petrified I lean in and softly say “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND”?????? “I WILL NOT have sex with you”!!!!! “Oh my God, I can’t even believe you would”…… Then I was shushed by a bouncer, and he and Stan the man had a great old belly chuckle at my expense. Finally my look of bewilderment and confusion must have caused a synaptic connection for Stan — only then did he finally let me into the circle of “Bubbly room knowledge”..,….ASSHOLES………

Here are the Champagne Room Guidelines

  1. You have the allotted paid for amount of time — anywhere from 1-4 hours.
  2. They must purchase a bottle of champagne off of the list supplied once in the room — the list goes according to time purchased.
  3. You must dance — though not necessarily straight through if it’s 3-4 hours — but also keep them company.
  4. The customer can decide how clothed you are and at what points throughout your “Room time”.
  5. You make A SHIT TON OF MONEY the happier they are with the visit.

Once in the room — after an hour of dancing — and several glasses of bubbly — did the most unexpected thing happen…

STAN BEGAN BAWLING LIKE A FREAKING BABY…..For the next two hours I consoled his giant whiney ass, reassuring him he was not a pig, or a slime ball — thinking to myself “Is this guy for real”?

THEN the truth came out — Stan was a regular, who also had a family — a struggling family of six. Stan lied about how much he really made a week to his wife of 8 years– just to feed his sex/ porn/stripper addiction.

I cannot begin to explain my anger and disappointment, I felt guilty taking the 450 bucks. But then again — like Stan’s clueless wife — at some point we learn the hard truth, often it hurts us beyond imagination — sometimes beyond broken. But you will never pick yourself up, and start gluing yourself back together, if — you don’t learn how to TEACH YOURSELF TOUGHNESS. This day — this man — this incident — was lesson one, in my journey to learning that very thing. As I walked bouncer guided, back to my car — I glanced back at the building — and challenged it AND it’s nut-job clientele to another day.  A day in the life of Sin-Dustry I guess — till next time.

Written By: Heather Cornell

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Insult to Sindustry?

funny photoA recent poll of 100 men, indicated that, 35% of the men polled were — or have been, jealous, intimidated, or insulted — by a partner’s request or  use  of “toy-play”, in the bedroom.

When asked why; The response that the thought of the query or blatant use and action of “toy-play” was just to taboo for Man-land.

The survey taker’s insinuated that — “It is in indirect insult to the size, effectiveness, and over all satisfaction, of their “equipment”.

OUCH ego crusher? or Help with your lover? Though every man who took part had a slightly different way of portraying his distaste for The Bedroom-Battery-Buddy, one truth remained TRUE — Most feel that they are just “Not enough”.

Top 5 irrational insecurities

  1. The women in question — are DISSATISFIED on some level.
  2. That the toy in question is either a replacement, or “the something missing”.
  3. That she will be able to satisfy herself better than he can.
  4. That he is packing less than heat in his “nether-regions”…..
  5. In the more severe of the irrationality — some guys even believe ” that toy-play ” is — The beginning of the end.

“WOMAN’S VIEW” — as to why that is absurd………. or not….

  1. The woman is merely trying to spice things up — where-by, keeping YOU interested…..
  2. She is genuinely trying to alleviate some of the “pressure” you may feel to satisfy her — thus making your job easier and more enjoyable.
  3. In “some” cases woman stated — “that their sex drive is much higher than her other half, by filling her “excess need” — you can relax, and NOT feel as if you are slacking or not fully satisfying her.
  4. “IF” she was not happy or content with the “hardware” — she would have fired you, and begun shopping for a more “adequate upgrade” — let’s just say she adopted Home Depots motto of, “You can do it, we can help”.
  5. An (inside secret) admitted by 25% of woman polled said they felt — “inferior or inexperienced” — when compared to their partner. By learning what excites them — solo or with you, they feel a bit more confident in their “abilities and super-sexy-sheet-skills”. Be happy and perhaps a bit grateful she cares that much….. She’s a keeper…..

What is the consensus here?

TALK TO EACH OTHER…. Honesty really is the best policy. He’s thinking one thing — you’re thinking another — and the truth and solution lie somewhere in the middle of BOTH of your truths……. FIND IT or BUZZ OFF.

buzz lightyear

    :Heather Cornell

150 PIMPS ARRESTED 105 RESCUED VICTIMS IN LARGEST CHILD TRAFFICKING STING TO DATE

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OPERATION CROSS COUNTRY VII

       A task force made up of forty-seven FBI divisions, more than 3,900 law enforcement officers, from local, state, and federal, to agents representing 230 separate agencies teamed up with the (NCMEC) National Center for Missing and Exploited Children — as part of the Bureau’s ( Innocence Lost National Initiative).

       This three-day nationwide enforcement action targeted the people responsible for the trafficking , forced prostitution, abuse, and in some cases even torture of under-age victims.

       This united effort spanning 76 cities nation-wide concluded with an astounding 150 arrests of both pimps and other persons of interest — and most importantly  the rescue of 105 teenagers, being used as prostitutes — the youngest being only 13 years old. This has now been the largest and most successful  enforcement action to date.

        Human trafficking is not new news; however the actual numbers are heinous and appalling.

        There are at least 27 million slaves in the US today, more than any other time period in history — including  pre-abolition. Annually 800,000 people trafficked onto US territory via it’s borders. Of those 800,000 — 90% are women and young female children — with 70% of those woman and children being trafficked for the sole purpose of being forced into the ( commercial sex-slave industry ). If that stomach turning data wasn’t enough — how about the realization that according to the (NCMEC) — 50% of that 70% are children.

 One such victim was not only rescued in this past sting, but was also a key component to the success of it. With her help and cooperation, agents posing as johns, and websites used for the advertising of prostitution — this impressive three-day action served it’s purpose and then some.

“Child prostitution remains a persistent threat to children across America” said Ron Hosko, Assistant Director of the FBI’s Criminal Investigative Division. He also stated that ” this operation serves as a  reminder that these abhorrent crimes can happen ANYWHERE — and that the FBI are committed to stopping this cycle of victimization, and holding the criminals that profit from this exploitation accountable.”

 Since it’s 2003 beginnings, The Innocence Lost National Initiative has resulted in, the identification and recovery of more than 2,700 children — who have been sexually exploited.

  Ron Hosko also explained that most runaways turn to prostitution for money… “With no way to survive on their own, they are trapped into a life of being trafficked — trapped into this cycle, that involves drugs, it involves physical abuse, and may even involve torture — so that they are tied to the pimp.”

       One such victim is Alexandria a.k.a. Alex, a runaway — who at first stayed with family and friends — eventually finding herself on the street and desperate. Alex then turned to prostitution as a way to supply her basic needs — just for survival. Soon she was at the mercy of a pimp. In an interview Alex bravely admits what her experience was like. She tells the interviewer that ” At first it was terrifying, and then…..You just become numb to it” — “You put on a whole different attitude” — like a different person. “It wasn’t me.”

Two years into her painful ordeal, Alex contacted the FBI, and became a very important asset in helping to bring down two pimps, while also helping to facilitate  the rescue of several under-age victims.

Even through all the bad, inconceivable, and life altering things she endured — Alex is now on her own and thriving — with a positive attitude and outlook on life, as well as her future. Since her rescue she has received her high school diploma, and plans on attending college. Her future goals include becoming an advocate for victims of sexual exploitation.

Watch her interview here:

“They had my past but not my future” – Alex

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=aOQhf5zV18M

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=Nc6J6MdoBog

The sex industry is a multi-million dollar business — no matter what state the economy is in, struggling or not — SEX-STILL-SELLS…. But this is not a case of to each his own, The phrase “what happens behind closed doors, is none of OUR business.” — does NOT apply! What are your opinions on this topic? Here and Sphere would love to hear from you………

Written By: Heather Cornell / Here and Sphere

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Stripping, fact and fiction revealed through the memoir’s of a Sin-dustry newbie…..

Stripping, Is it an art-form, or just a

        skanky way to make money?

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I met Jazmina and Chloe back in 2007, Jazmina a.k.a Jazzy was a tall slender girl about 25 years old, long dark pin straight hair, olive complected and beautiful by all accounts. Chloe was a larger, much curvier gal, with fiery red hair, blue eyes, pale complexion, and a bra size to match her unbelievably bold and outrageous personality.

Jazmina mother of three beautiful little Jazzy look alike’s, had a long heart to heart with me about her life. Minus an alcoholic mom, and a few boyfriends from the wrong side she was from a fairly normal up-bringing.

Chloe was just a rebel from what I could tell, older than Jazzy by about 3 years, yet Jazzy had her in maturity by about 6. Chloe was adventurous, wild and intoxicatingly fun. Her curvy bodied “OH HELL NO” to some — was her — “$500.00” pay day to others….. Literally half a grand for a days worth of “work”.

Raising the question is it really work? How hard could it be to take your clothes off? Literally one piece at a time slowly walking around a pole while gyrating to the music picked and played for you? Where do boundaries exist? when are they crossed? Is it worth it? Why do it at all?

Questions that could only be answered years later, when I found myself in a predicament, similar to the one Jazzy had confided in me just 3 years prior. So to the phone I went. Dialing her number seemed not at all strange, almost welcoming……Like the answer to my problems — salvation even — could be just a “Hello- what’s up?” away. And just like that a stripper was born.

Arriving at the club that night knowing not what to expect but instead scared to death, I popped a little something for anxiety and thought to myself “am I really about to do this?” and truth be told I WAS……I had no choice….

The flashing neon sign of the club was actually more tasteful than I had remembered — not so cliche — or Amsterdam red light district-ish — “somewhat classy for a strip club” I thought to myself. After an hour of self-pep talks, and driving in and out of the lot, I finally parked, and got out. “You have had children in teaching hospitals — where it felt as though the entire maternity ward had seen, examined, and could on all probability thoroughly describe your nether regions in great detail if asked to”  I said out loud — to myself — this should be 1000 times easier than that.

This club was a step- up from the usual ones I had been to. I had spent many a night paying some half witted, over salined, bitchy broad to give a friend or friends newly 18 or 21 year old brother his first real taste of the XXX world. This particular place was no dive pig pen, or not-so-foxy- or lady at all. THERE WERE RULES……Strictly enforced rules….

A) No removal of bottoms.

B) Pasties — use them –or lose money

C) Lap-dances Definition: Not so much in the lap as much as a dance near , or around the lap area. Dancers hands may only be placed on recipiant’s shoulder’s or knees. There is to be no butt to crotch contact, dancer may not “grind” … Recipient may not touch — AT ALL — PERIOD.

D) When the shift is done the dancer MUST tip out the –

  • DJ — For playing the shit she wanted to dance to.
  • Bouncer’s — For protecting her ass.
  • Other Dancer’s — If they participated in any champagne room, or dual dances with one or more dancer’s
  • Floor manager — For running a tight ship
  • House — For being allowed the opportunity to shake your covered parts on one or even all three of their stages, then working their room in an attempt to gain more money, and also attracting the clientele to the club — to purchase overpriced drinks, and go home alone.

After the sign up card, which was very minimal to say the least — identification shown — and a quick “By the way your responsible for your own taxes” paper to sign, I was escorted to the changing room — before receiving the “grand tour”.

The dressing room was so overwhelming to me, a first timer / newbie. There were fake hair pieces on model heads strewn about the make-up clad counter tops. Mirrors galore, posing the question; Fun house, or nut house? The amount of glitter containing products also taking up residence on the counters was astonishing — sure fire way to get that  “night prowling ” husband in deep shit, as that is NOT easily washed off. Self tanning spray a.k.a oompa loompa spray was a staple — along with; hairspray /hair glue, fake nails, and pastie heaven — felt more like Barbie hell to me, but hey I was the newbie right?

One girl took me under her wing and “taught me the ropes” so to speak.

“What are your outfit choices?” she asked to which I replied a muffled: UMMMM!

“Outfits??? shit —  how could I forget something so vital?” “Oh yeah perhaps the freaking out over the getting naked thing, threw me off.”

Well now what? Sweetly and to my rescue she came with a strange looking bag of random, well I guess you could call them “parts” of clothing.

When I was done “getting ready”, I was at best a mish-mash of a patriotic hula-cowgirl-teachers assistant….Hmmm. well “here goes nothing” I thought. Standing behind the DJ booth I waited for my “name” to be called in rotation, I would dance one song on the main stage, one song on the satellite stage, and one more on the second satellite stage. “Wait what 3 songs, 3 stages?” If I was going to puke that would have been the time. But before vomit could enter my esophagus, the DJ announced loudly “And for the first time here at (insert club name here) please help us welcome (insert ridiculously cheesy any porn star-ish name possible here)……

Pole tricks

I had watched the 3 or 4 girls that had gone previously, and the pole seemed to be an acrobatic tool. “I’m flexible and acrobatic” I thought…..NOT SO….That pole is deviously challenging — and not at all a good idea to debut your lack of stage skill, or learning curve sexy skill components. As the first song played I gripped it, white knuckling the hell out of it , and praying those 6′ heels would not do me in. I swayed “not so sexily” to the rock song playing.  “Floor work….yes floor work” I thought to myself, ” how hard can it be to roll around and do acrobatic things in a seductive manner?” NOPE WRONG AGAIN……..knocking off peoples drinks, almost spiking “the ball” literally, and trying to gauge the amount of space in which to roll around…….HA!!!! — a fools errand at best –but I tried. Other than Mr. whiny-wet pants everyone seemed pretty nice, even throwing “pity bills” or at least that’s how it felt. After stage 2 and 3, my legs felt immobile, What the hell were these muscles, where did they come from, and why do they hate me? All relevant questions a newbie asks once they are un-able to move.

After realizing the catty nature of my next step in stripper-dom,, I really wanted to run and never come back…..These girls literally would have cut your grandma’s throat if it meant that they had a chance of scoring a lap-dance or two, from a mindless patron. It was absolute mayhem on the floor. But the newbie gets the attention or so I learned:

  • The regular clients want to see how far you will go.
  • Will you push boundaries or break rules?
  • Will you know what is and is not acceptable?
  • Will you play by the rules and rat them out if they slip you an extra $50.00 and an apology.
  • Are you willing to leave with them?
  • How desperate are you for cash?

It’s pretty stomach turning when you start to realize the mentality of some of these men, and women.

By night’s end I just wanted to go home, shower, and be done with a world I never thought — would actually take and blacken a piece of my soul — but it did. Question is will I come back tomorrow?  I guess you’ll have to come back to find out, and so will I……..    Your’s Truly: Sin-dustry

Written By: Heather Cornell

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ONE QUESTION ( SHE’S ) TO SHY, OR GROSSED OUT TO ASK….

Man-Cestry

ONE QUESTION ( SHE’S ) TO SHY, OR GROSSED OUT TO ASK….

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I AM MAN……..

“HEAR ME ROAR” would just be way to cliché — so instead I will say

” How you dooooin?”…Now that the girls have giggled and thrown up in their mouths, I can happily begin my first post for Here and Sphere.

Woman are funny, disturbing, wildly attractive, and insanely annoying creatures. They have brilliant minds, and Jedi tricks — their super powers are kind of awesome — also THEY PISS ME OFF TO NO END.

However: without them life would SERIOUSLY be a GIANT boring sausage fest, of gaming, messy houses, unshaven…..well…EVERYTHING….and TOTAL BOREDOM.

So in the spirit of these brazen, self – starting, and completely  bewildering Goddesses…. <—-(hoping I scored points there, though doubtful) — I give a peace-offering of sorts. INFORMATION, yup that’s right…. I may even break guy code here — so hopefully no one puts a hit on me. IF I live to see another day, MEN — Will at some point thank me….. I PROMISE…

HERE IS A QUESTION, WOMAN WANT ANSWERED — BUT ARE TO SHY TO ASK:

Q. Numero Uno) Why in the hell does it take so damn long for a guy to take a crap?

A. Well my lovely Fast Crapper’s, and power pusher’s of the world;                  1.) WE ENJOY THE DAMN SILENCE. The reason that porcelain god is called a “Throne” is — for when we sit upon it We are one again King of OUR castle.  ”If” we share a domicile, that means that at some point…..YOU WON. We surrendered our hearts and spare key, to the woman we knew should be ” Our Queen”. 

2.) The Solace of the “poop room” helps us to think…. ( Yes we really do that thinking thing….smart-ass) It’s a “Turd World Country” but it is rich in plushCottonelle butt paper. Plus there are hand-towels..neatly folded and perfectly placed hand-towels (that we KNOW we are NOT supposed to touch — since they are simply there to look pretty.)

3.) THERE ARE NO RULES…Other than the hand-towel NO-NO!!!! In the “Palace of Poo” we men are FREE. We are allowed by human-ism, and possibly god given right — to obnoxiously fill the air — with our rancid man-ufactured, possibly toxic, tear-inducing ass perfume. AND THERE…..It is acceptable….even encouraged.

4.) Finally and most honestly –IT FEELS GOOD….. There I said it.. After all we worked hard for that feeling of accomplishment. After stuffing our faces behind the backs of our beloved queens, and slowly digesting our gluttonous bounty — it feels GREAT to know….. OUR CRAP STILL WORKS……….

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Your Friend: Lost in Mans-lation

KAT GOT YOUR TONGUE : SIZE MATTERS ? MAYBE IT DOESN’T.

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So we meet again, dear Kat readers !!

For those reading Kat for the first time, I’d like to inform everyone that all content here was derived from reputable sources. You are NOT reading pseudoscience !

Now that I’ve disclaimer-ed you to death, my topic and question is, “Does penis size matter when finding a mate?”

Although, this topic arouses a banquet of controversy, even my own curiosity was piqued here. How exactly does one tackle this age-old question, one so perverted and distorted by stereotypes? I’ll tell you how! Science!

People have been obsessed with penis size since Eve first discovered Adam eventually had an additional bone for her. Considering all variables surrounding my topic, I chose a source that remained most objective : research and experiments from the University of Ottawa and from the Australian National University appeared most suitable as to the methods used to obtain and reinforce the data I will be using here. (Ummm, thanks Canada for your unsung obsession with male genitalia. A double thanks to Australia for supporting the findings of our frigid northern friends!)

Both universities performed experiments using computer generated naked male images to gauge sexual attractiveness. To paint a better visual picture, those artificial images gave no relevance to facial features or hair. Giving ugly bald guys out there a fair chance. These life sized pictures varied in height, physique, and complete with flaccid penises. All women participating in the experiment were instructed to rate the images by sexual attraction.

Each image’s starting length was a 3-inch pinch, and as the images progressed, so did penis length. Interestingly enough, with the growth of penis size so did the image’s polarity ranking. As an image’s penis size continued to increase, its appeal slowly decreased when compared to proceeding images.

Yet another plus one for men lesser endowed! Please don’t get discouraged, gentlemen, this data could be a manifestation of evolutionary principles embedded in the female subconscious. Penis size once was a primeval indicator of a male’s ability to sire genetically desirable offspring. Which would explain why the human penis has evolved at an accelerating rate in comparison to other primates.

Turns out, though, that the experiments in research of penis size only had relevance when considered in tandem with body type : taller images with smaller penises scored higher than shorter images with larger penises, and shorter images with smaller penises ranked the least favorable. The image ranking highest in scores seemed to be the tallest image with the largest penis trumping over all other images. Both the tall and short images scoring the best all shared the same mesomorphic qualities. ( “Mesomorph” is just a fancy way of saying a body type with broad shoulders, wide chest, and narrow hips. ) According to the data gathered, penis size is nowhere near as important as a nice body. Which doesn’t surprise me considering men don’t wear their penis outside their pants while on the dating scene. First we gals must be seduced by what we see on the surface. Only after can we experience any sexual gratification or disappointment.

A penis will not find you a mate; but it will definitely help you keep her. Best way to find a mate, guys? A Macy’s credit card & gym membership! And even if you’re not well-endowed, fear not Vienna sausage packing dudes! Learn to speak in tongues to better communicate with the whispering eye.

Conveniently enough, a woman’s cervix is between three and five inches long. It only expands slightly upon arousal to accommodate a man’s penis. So what’s all the commotion in the ocean ? There are plenty of fish in the sea that’ll take your bait no matter what size. Uh, ladies not everyone fishing wants a large mouth bass hanging off their poles. Kegels…Google it, or just wait for my next blog.

— Kat Gottlich / Kat Got your Tongue