Yeah

Most of you who still bother to read this blog think I'm pregnant. I said I was just over a month ago, and I've been silent since, so your mistake can be forgiven.

I'm *not* pregnant.

I wish I had never told you all that I was! God, how I wish that. I feel ashamed now, stupid, dumb, all that... I think I may have crossed the line by being that honest, you know?

My pregnancy was terminated four weeks ago. And it wasn't my first abortion, by the way. Come on, you right-wingers, give it to me! I'm a murderer, a sinner, a soulless bitch, right? Come on!!! I know, I fucking just fucking know that that's what you want to say. So just say it already and let's be done with it!!!

I am now officially 23 years old. Twenty-fucking-three. And I have no fucking clue!!! I don't know what to do.

I'm making a lot of money, stripping. And the work isn't bad. Yet I often feel like I'm being stupid, that I'm betraying my true self by doing this, you know? I just got home from "work" an hour ago. Guess what I did during my four-hour shift?

1.) I didn't want to be there (I hate working Sundays) but the way the club I work at works is that I have to pay $75 to dance, but every consecutive night I work they knock off $10. Tonight, for instance, I only had to pay $15 to work. If I work again tomorrow night I'll only have to pay $5. But I'm tired so I doubt I'll work again tomorrow.

2.) I mostly gave private dances tonight. I don't usually go onstage anymore-- I hate to sound like I'm full of myself, but the truth is that the DJ realizes I'm in high demand for private dances. He rarely calls me up.

3.) I went into the club tonight with $235 in my purse (I remember the amount because I was exactly $13 shy of being able to pay off one HUGE credit card, from like three years ago). Just now I counted my cash-- can you guess what I have now?

$1,128. Yep. Great, right? I worked like, four hours, and made $893. Not too bad.

4.) $325 of that money came from me letting some dude with no hair, wearing obviously gay jeans, put his finger into my ass.

5.) I drank with a bunch of cool people. GOD how I wish all the cool people had money!!! Maybe having money makes you an ass? I don't know. All I know is that more than a few guys, cool fucking guys, bought me expensive drinks (Long Islands for $13) and all I had to do was flirt with them.

6.) Flirtining as a stripper is weird. They've already seen me naked, so what can I do to get them excited? Tonight I was everything for everyone. Hand lightly rested on his inside thigh, I would ask about Nascar or Kim-jong-Il, depending on how they were dressed. It usually worked.

7.) Why am I numbering these things?!? I can't recall.

8.) Here is a huge admission: I love my job. I do. I love it. I get paid money to get naked and flirt with guys who are usually twice my age. I get paid GOOD fucking money to crawl up onto the stage and entertain men who've seen it all... yet still want me. I mean, they really want me!

9.) Just tonight, one guy offered me $100 if I would blow him. Crazy.

10.) I'm the ugliest girl at my work. I am. My tits sag a bit, even though they're small, and even though I'm only 23. And my hair-- don't ask about my hair. My teeth are perfect, but that's what braces and a contracting retainer will buy you. My ass is firm and smooth, which is, I think, my best feature. But other girls I work with have huge, tight, firm tits with nice round butts and brilliant teeth.

Yet I'm like one of the top earners!!!

I don't understand it either. And no, I'm not the ugliest girl at my work... but like... it always seems so weird that I do so well, when so many other, hotter, sexier girls do poorly.

11.) Before you go and call me a prostitute, let me say this: no. Sorry. I don't know what to say.

I am a prostitute, basically. At my fucking job, my JOB!, I'll suck off a guy if he offers a big enough tip ($150). For more than that?

I feel so dirty. Was I ever anything but this? I can't remember.

I'm drunk right now. I've been fucked tonight by two different guys... one of whom was just an ass-man. An "Ass-Man". I feel so sick.

At the time, and even now as I type, it was hot. God, why is that hot?

My baby, my baby, is dead because I chose to kill her.

I'm a murderer. Yet I get to have orgasms?

There is no god. No god at all. No god at FUCKING all. If you think otherwise, FUCK YOU!!! Because I did murder, and I liked it, because it allowed me to feel even better now... than ever.

I aborted, I did shit. Shit. Shit.

At the end of the day all that matters is money. Or does it matter?

Shit.

BTW, I just posed for a series of Internet-Only (supposedly) porno pictures. It's very likely that I'll be doing a movie next (interner-movie, not "real" movie). Anyway. Maybe I should just post the pix here and be done with it... but maybe... nevermind. Do you want to see me, the real Shannon, or not? And would it... nevermind. God, this is the only place. The only fucking place!!

-shannon-