The myth of the perfect baby

Yep, you guessed it, I'm gonna talk about my ass again.  I wish it was back in the days when talking about my ass meant that it was a thousand men at once drooling over my bottom and telling me how great I looked.  Looked, past tense.  I don't think any of me looks that great any more.  For those of you not in the know, for a good long while I was an adult entertainer.  Of the webcam variety.  Like a stripper, but on a webcam and with "extras".  I'm sure a lot of you wouldn't be proud of that.  I'm sure a lot of you will actually think less of me now for even knowing it, but you know what?  I enjoyed the job.  It  was from home, in the comfort of my own bedroom, I made my own hours and I made some damn good money doing it.  My husband thought it was awesome because I was the kind of woman men paid to look at from afar.  I was the kind of woman even other women paid to view.  I was ranked pretty high on the paid sites ...

YEAH WELL I'M NOT. So get the fuck over it.  I'm flawed.  I'm notoriously flaky.  I cancel on appointments that make me nervous.  I do weird shit.  Sometimes? Sometimes I pull off sane and no one is the wiser, but for the most part, you just get to know me and realize I hide a lot, a lot of the time.  Most of it is for no good reason, I don't even know why I don't tell people some of it.  I guess I could have warned you this was one of those introspective blogs where I get all weird.  I'll probably post you some shit later in it that is entirely more fun, so don't despair, my Ativan will kick in. Moving on, I'm an appointment canceling queen.  Sometimes, it's not because I don't want to go, but sometimes it really is.  In my defense they were all non emergent appointments.  Not in my favor they were all for the little boys.  But here's the thing, there's that weird stigma about putting a leash on your kid and no matter how cute...