Back to pulling down my knickers and typing up words

After the damb squib which were the Olympics - business was slow, slow, slow - my skin itched with the frustrating affair which saw hundreds of thousands of people with bulging wallets visit London for the sporting event of the year, but failed to walk through the doors of the West End.
It was painful.
I'd planned my whole year around the Olympics.  I had big BIG plans.  Visit a few festivals and enjoy the beginning of summer, then earn pots of Olympic gold, save up some for my tax bill and still have pennies for holidaying in September.
I was going to use the unusual situation to interview lots of other dancers, bar staff and perhaps even some club operators - how they had coped with the busy influx, the funny stories, the lessons they had learnt.  How it all differed from the usual frustration of a long, hot and slow summer period, where any dancer worth her salt goes away or works on the coast or abroad.  Perhaps put together some sort of e-book, pamphlet affair, so that we could stand proudly on the rooftops and shout

"Look! LOOK! Look what us working girls did for London, did for the image of Britain - how we kept all those people who would otherwise be sitting around in hotel rooms happy and jubilant and celebrating all the beauty that this great city has to offer, deep into the night.  Night after night.  WE are superhuman! WE deserve a medal."

But nah.  The fun and fizz and fanfare exploded in a damp squib.  Everyone partied somewhere else, or didn't party at all.  Blame it on the scaremongering of London transport, blame it on the press's empty fears of a deluge of sex-workers invading our streets, blame it on pay-per-view TV.

So I've been really, really quiet.  Stopped writing, either here or on my stripping website http://www.londonlapdancer.com/ 

I'm super sorry to everyone who sent me emails with fantastic comments, guest-posting submissions, or requests for interviews.  

Like the tourists, I couldn't be asked and went on holiday instead.  A whole month of it.  HA! Damn fine time I had too, with no writing, no pulling off my panties and NO SHAVING!!!!

But I'm back, plucked, waxed, tanned - and a little bit fatter.  Ready to rock the pole by night and keyboard by day.

Thanks for sticking around folks......

xxx Sassy

http://www.londonlapdancer.com/

Suspiciously quiet for Christmas

Last night was the last Thursday before Christmas, and you know what .... it was suspiciously quiet.
I get the feeling that anybody with money has fled to the country, the office parties are all over, and blokes are more concerned with panic buying last-minute presents than lapdances.

I did alright considering that an old friend randomly popped by, who didn't know that I worked there - they knew I am a dancer though, but while it wasn't totally awkward, it did throw me off a little bit.  Took a while to get my stripper swagger back, if I'm honest...

I'm going to work tonight, in the hope that a Christmas miracle happens, and that I get a nice big fat paycheck just in time for the annual Christmas Eve pub crawl.  If I find any time, I'll pull the odd shift over the holidays, but to be honest, I don't know where I will find the time.....

Time for a Body Overhaul

Well I'm back from my little sojourn in Italy, and whilst I had a fantastic time, I am now faced with several problems....

Flickr by KWDesigns

• Carb overload.  I'm not stupid, I knew that this would happen in the land of pizza and pasta.  Luckily for me, I find it very difficult to put weight on, and even if I do pile on a few pounds, they usually pad out my tummy or tits, never the hips.  So after five days stuffing my face with mozzarella in all it's incarnations (creamy burrata, heavy smoked scamorza, melted and gooey mozzarella that stretches from mouth to plate - you get the idea), anyhow, even after five days of munching my body still looks ok.  Not perfect, but still a size 8, except that now with a bit more cleavedge and a little pot belly.  Nothing that a bit of fake tan can't sculpt...
• Patchy tan.   I didn't top myself up whilst I was away, so my usual layer of terracotta gloop has rubbed off.  It was also in the pleasant twenties so I even caught a bit of sun, especially whilst walking around the glaring ruins of Pompeii.  Again, it's nothing that careful application of fake tan can't fill in....
• Dodgy knee  Partying by night & sightseeing by day has left me with a swollen knee.  It's the first time my knee's given out through over-use, and I'm pretty worried about it as I'm usually in such good flexible shape.  I'll be calling my masseuse to pound out any stiffness in my joints and muscles, but will also have to find a decent physio to take a look at what could turn into a lingering problem which would be disasterous for my career. (And no, I don't get sick pay guys!)
• Red Wine Teeth  I drank a lot.  I think I damaged my kidneys too as I had a lower back ache for a good 24 hours.
• BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS.....  I had a well-deserved holiday, got to see some beautiful sights both ancient and modern, got trashed with old friends and made lovely new ones.  I also spoilt myself to a lovely lingerie slip in Italian silk and lace that will be perfect for work, and several traditional devil's horn good luck charms, so hopefully they will manifest in lot's of lucky VIP's and multiple lapdances.......

When the going gets tough, the tough get going

It's half term here in England, the first half term of the school year, and in the strange world of the West End, it's always the quietest week.
The parents are at home, struggling to cope with the reality of having the kids around all day, every day, and the masses without responsibilities stay in too; Halloween is days away, and next to Christmas & the August Bank Holiday, it's a HUGE party weekender.  Plus no-one has got used to the cold and rain yet, and it will take until mid-November till people ignore the weather and go out regardless.

Of course, just coz the punters stop coming in doesn't mean that us exotic dancers stay at home too.

Nah, we still turn up in droves....

if you go to a stripclub in London this week you will have your pick, there will be ten beautiful girls to your one man (or woman!)

I'd say go down and support a stripper, but I'm getting the hell out of dodge and going on an impromptu holiday to Italy to see the sights and a few friends.  It's been a crappy week moneywise and rather than losing my curves to stress I'm gonna go eat hot steaming plates of creamy carbs, drink red wine till it dribbles down my chin and remember how sensitive my teeth are sucking on my gelato ( teeth whitening - you need pearly gnashers to be a smily stripper but that bleach makes them as sensitive as an octogenarians)

As they say in Italy, ciao!