Topless And Brainless

Sorry ladies, I'm not buying the argument that the bad economy is forcing you to take off your clothes for money. You might fool AP into buying your story but this little blogger laughed heartily when she saw the headline "More Women Go From Jobless To Topless."

You're not baring it all to pay your rent or buy Timmy Jr. a new pair of shoes or to finally get grandma that kidney operation she needs but can't afford because our mean mean nation doesn't have universal healthcare. You're entering the adult entertainment industry because you finally have an excuse to enter the adult entertainment industry!

I watch HBO. For years, their weekend programming has been dedicated to making the business of skin look like a rollicking good time: Real Sex, Cathouse, Thinking XXX, Dowtown Girls, Katie Morgan A Porn Star Revealed and Real Time With Bill Maher (sex clouds his judgement) plus countless documentaries (personal fave was Pimps Up, Hoes Down) all seek to make the porn lifestyle look as innocent as a Lawrence Welk reunion show.

Often, after watching one of these programs, I will jokingly turn to my husband and say, "Oh man! I wish I were a whore."

(I had to stop watching Real Sex after they did a feature on clown orgies. All those big feet, purple frizzy hair and honking noses really flipped me out.)

But, back to the AP piece:

The transition to the nightclub scene isn't always a smooth one — from learning to dance in five-inch heels to dealing with the jeers of some customers.

Some performers said they were initially so nervous that only alcohol could calm their nerves.

Yes, girls, today it's alcohol, tomorrow it's E. Next week it'll be heroin. Today it's dancing naked to Akon, tomorrow it's winning the "Best Solo Scene" award at the AVN's. Next week it'll be a tugger in an alley for five bucks and a pack of cigarettes. It's a slippery slope-- Little wonder, considering the preponderance of bodily fluids in the sex industry.

I don't know who I'm more disappointed in: The reporter who doles out this nonsense like it's a serious ecomomic/human interest news story or the subjects of the piece who apparently think working at McDonald's would be more damaging to their self-esteem than dancing at the Pink Monkey. In both places, "May I take your order" means two very different things.