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New York Court Rules 4-3 Lap Dances Not Exempt Artistic Performances, Can Be Taxed

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Albany strip club Nite Moves challenged a 2005 audit by claiming that lap dances were exempt from taxation, just as ballet performances are (I wrote about some of the sillier commentary inspired by the case). Their appeal wound up in front of the New York Court of Appeals, and today they ruled against the club, 4-3. From the decision*:

Clearly, it is not irrational for the Tax Tribunal to decline to extend a tax exemption to every act that declares itself a “dance performance.” If ice shows presenting pairs ice dancing performances, with intricately choreographed dance moves precisely arranged to musical compositions, were not viewed by the Legislature as “dance” entitled a tax exemption, surely it was not irrational for the Tax Tribunal to conclude that a club presenting performances by women gyrating on a pole to music, however artistic or athletic their practiced moves are, was also not a qualifying performance entitled to exempt status. To do so would allow the exemption to swallow the general tax since many other forms of entertainment not specifically listed in the regulation will claim their performances contain tax-exempt rehearsed, planned or choreographed activity.

From Shaking Tail to Spinning Tales

In March 2005 I started a blog. My first post was about my new hideously expensive purse, but my blog, pretty dumb things, quickly became a blog with—not necessarily of—sex. I wrote a lot, posting five or six times a week, often but not always, narrating something sexual. At the height of its popularity, my blog brought in somewhere between 4,000 and 10,000 visitors a day. Which is a dizzying number for a one-woman show of neuroses, orgasms, butt sex, blowjobs, pop culture, occasional snark and/or whimsy, and tales of when I was a stripper. My writing got noticed, and I got paid to write for various magazines and anthologies, got interviewed by Susie Bright, and got semi-pseudo-famous, in short, for my sexytime writing.

Sweatpants Boner Man, Widemouth Bass Man, and Other People Not to Be at the Strip Club

Paul Carr has been writing a series of reports from Las Vegas for the Huffington Post with his sobriety as the hook—what’s it like to be in Vegas sober, etc. His guide for part of the trip has been Ruth Fowler, fellow sober person, former stripper and author of the memoir No Man’s Land. For the fourth installment of Carr’s report, they met up with Daisy Delfina and GCupBitch to record a hilarious video that, in the best possible way, sounds exactly like strippers ranting at a diner after work.

I’ve sat at the rack at a truck stop titty bar with Ruth, worked with G on opposite ends of the continent, and shared a dinner table with Daisy. They are charming and bright women and the perfect ambassadors to bring the term “sweatpants boner man” into the wider lexicon. Here’s the original Stripper Web thread where the term was coined. To the best of my knowledge, adult film performer and feature dancer Ginger Lee was the first one to use the phrase. Now it can be known that Sweatpants Boner Man is the new Raincoat Charlie.

An Extras Girl in Australia

maxines_barI get into work at the strip club and put my bag down. “Who is leaving all these condoms around here? We’re not fucking whores!” “Why do people have condoms in here, it’s meant to be a STRIP CLUB, who is doing that shit?” I replied straight back, “They’re not mine, but what’s the big deal? Lots of us do extras.” Hours pass, and in a quieter, more private moment, the same worker who said this earlier confides to me that she does extras too.

The first sex work I did was in a strip club—in the state I was living in at the time (Victoria, Australia) there is a complex legal system for the sex industry which means to work legally for yourself you must register with your legal name and only do outcalls. The only other way to work legally is in a brothel where the money cuts are less and you had to attend monthly invasive health checks to work (recently reduced to once every three months). Neither of these options really appealed to me, so I chose to work in a way that was criminalized, but where I could keep the maximum amount of my money, take care of my own health, have the maximum amount of control over how I worked and also avoid police as much as possible. I chose to work in a strip club.

Stripper Music Monday: Valentine’s Day with Plies

Happy Valentine’s Day, lovers.

Friday is Valentine’s Day, that special day wherein we celebrate patriarchal norms and reinforce insulting gender stereotypes with rampant consumerism.

So romantic.

Valentine’s Day is one of the those special “off” days that happen every-so-often in the strip club. Working the night of one these off days is never business-as-usual—it’s usually, business-as-oh-my-God-did-that-just-happen. The day of Cupid falls on a Friday this year, and there’s going to be a full moon.

Get ready.