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.
Handling The Review Boards
Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.
—Oscar Wilde
There is no human experience so intimate and personal that people won’t publicly dissect it. Childbirth. Funerals. Cancer treatments. And sex. I agree with much of what has already been said here on T&S about the problems inherent to some sex work review boards. The whole concept of reviewing an erotic encounter that one was a participant in is an odd idea; it’s like having like a theater critic be in the cast of the play. How can one ignore the fact that the critic played some part in how the show turned out? But, especially with experiences that touch on primal emotions, people search for ways to bring some intellectual analysis to what they are feeling—with mixed degrees of success. Some sex worker reviews are truthful, insightful, and useful: others are more like naked bathroom selfies of the reviewer, with all the perils inherent to that art.
I’ve been reviewed, as an escort and as a pro domme, on both escort boards and sites specifically about professional dominance. Some reviews were positive, some not so much. Of course I prefer the paeans to my beauty and skill—who doesn’t? But I’ve learned to not take any of them too seriously, because I got toughened up in an equally merciless school: reviews and comments on my writing.