Posted on by Miss Brook$

george carlin on prostitution

I don’t understand why prostitution is illegal. Selling is legal, fucking is legal. So, why isn’t it legal to sell fucking? Why should it be illegal to sell something that’s legal to give away? I can’t follow the logic. Of all the things you can to do a person, giving them an orgasm is hardly the worst. In the army they give you a medal for killing people; in civilian life you go to jail for giving them orgasms. Am I missing something?
From Napalm & Silly Putty

At first, his argument is no different from any other common-sense argument regarding prostitution. But as he points out — in this society — “heroes” can be made by killing lots of people. Even serial killers are celebrated celebrities (most of the time their victims are women). But a woman who gives an orgasm to a man (who might not have had it otherwise) is a criminal and despicable human being.

I would ask that someone explain the logic to me in a way that makes sense. That won’t happen because it’s not possible. Even sadder, many of the arguments against prostitution operate off the base assumption that sex is violence. Only violence is violence, regardless of the form it takes.

Consensual orgasms between adults is not violence.

Posted on by Miss Brook$

is Las Vegas degrading to women?

Caution: I actually use a little naughty language in here.

When I went to Vegas for the first time in 2000, by myself, it took me all of 24 hours to figure out the city is made for money and women. If you have one or are the other, Vegas is your playground. To me, the secret of the city is that it’s a living monument to avarice and lust. I’ll go even further and say that pussy built Vegas and is its raison d’être. Aristotle Onassis understood that without women, money means nothing.

I spent two weeks there dancing. I never felt degraded in Vegas. I was constantly harassed by panhandlers, but that was it (I think I was a target because I looked harmless and was a single woman). I planned to go back the next fall, 2001, but those plans were curtailed. I’ve been back several times for vacations and I still feel the same vibe, although Vegas got whupped a little bit after 9/11 and lost some exuberance. I’m fully against it being a “family place.” That’s not why it lives and breathes.

Read more

Posted on by Miss Brook$

the conference: day 3

Today was the official first day of the Desiree Alliance conference.

I woke up at my usual time and got online, hoping not to disturb Jill. She woke up anyway and we started chatting, which means my e-mail got short shrift. I convinced her to go to breakfast with me (if I’d known how sick she was feeling, I probably would’ve forced her to stay in bed). I made sure to gather everything I’d need for my presentation today and plenty of books. I was just resigned to pain on the walk to the conference building.

We arrived a little later than I wanted, but everyone was running a few minutes behind. Lots of people were there and plenty of mingling. I realized the folly of not having anyone to sit behind the table where my book was displayed in order to sell it. I had to try and track people down. No one recognized me from my author photo (different hair – I guess it’s a Clark Kent thing). Lesson learned.

Jessica kept asking me if I was nervous about my presentation that afternoon. No, strangely, I wasn’t. It didn’t hit me until the moment I stood up in front of the room with my speech notes in my hand.

Read more

Posted on by Miss Brook$

the conference: day 2

I woke up at my usual time and answered e-mails, which of course included stuff that would be best handled from my home office. This sort of emergency stuff never happens when I’m actually at home. Only the very few times a year I’m away from my desk.

The night before I’d practiced one of my speeches, so this morning I practiced the other short one. My long one was going to have wait. I felt I knew my material pretty well at this point, but perhaps I wasn’t really paying attention to what was coming out of my mouth.

Today was St. James Infirmary Fantasy Sex Me Academy. I still don’t get the title, but okay. It was the Whore College re-named. It was a day-long seminar of presentations to sex workers. I was hoping to learn new things, meet new people (sell books!) and do some market research on the sly. Armed with directions from Yahoo! Maps, I began my morning walk.

Read more