I Quit My Porn Job

I haven't posted on The Writing Womb in a loooong assed time. Mostly because this was supposed to be a cartoon blog and it's a lot of fucking work to make cartoons...I don't want to invest that kind of time. Lots has happened since my last post, one of which, I have started a new blog that doesn't require me to cartoon things...I will share the fun posts from there onto here too. Why not? Maybe I will become inspired to cartoon again, I certainly have a lot of cool ideas but not a lot of time...so we shall see. 

Life has changed a lot since I was posting back in 2010...after two years, I moved back to Canada and left Thailand behind. I let go of teaching yoga and started doing stand up comedy which I did really well at. Comedy wasn't fulfilling me so I reinvented myself again and became a performance artist & storyteller...I won some awards and also won a grant from the government to produce my own one woman show...pretty great! I was selected to be on a reality dating show called First Dates Canada and it actually worked (for a while)...I moved in with my blind date and it was a good year. I left him a few months ago and am really happy just doing my own thing, on my own time and I realized that performing and telling stories was still missing something....I wasn't fully engaging all of myself and I wasn't able to have a really connected feeling with the audience. 

I decided to take my 10+ years of extensive shamanic medicine woman work that I had been doing and become a Spiritual & Psychedelic Integration Therapist which I find deeply rewarding and fulfilling. Basically, I help people integrate their experiences with hallucinogenic plant medicines like Iboga, Ayahuasca, Huachuma, Mushrooms and Peyote to name a few. I love it and yet...I really miss being on stage and having a laugh. What's in my view finder now is combining integration therapy and stand up comedy and offering workshops to people or becoming a speaker. I don't know how it will happen yet but I can feel that is what will happen and it is deeply exciting. Instead of reinventing myself, I am refining and sharing what is already there to include ALL parts of me. I love this. While I was getting my therapy business together, I decided to take a job as a Porn Stars assistant which I just quit yesterday (see below for that story). 

So the new blog I have is called I must Get Fit.  My goal is to lose 100 lbs in 365 days by eating a Raw Vegan diet. I have lost 7.2 lbs so far in under two weeks so it's going well. Here's today's post: 

Check In:

Whooohoooo! It's the last day of the detox cleanse, thank f*&#! I lost a total of 7.2 lbs in the 12 days of this detox, I am down to 232.8 lbs. I think doing this cleanse as a vegan would have been fine but as a raw vegan, it was super challenging...especially the last 3 days. My tongue got all dry and thick and the food got so boring & tasteless I had no desire to eat. My head was all woozy from the no eating so I had to force feed myself. I was very much like a child at the dinner table who 'didn't wanna' and I had the 'yuck' face on for every single meal. I can't wait to go grocery shopping for yummy foods again like Bananas, Cantaloupe, Pineapple, Mango, Mushrooms, oh sweet heaven.

Got a new scale to track my weight & all the other stuff....the other scale wasn't working right

Yesterday I woke up to having a couple of really painful zits on the right side of my tongue or at least that's what I thought they were. After consulting Dr. Google, it turns out it was infected taste buds which are caused by stress, eating too much citrus and lack of vitamin B's. Ok that's fair. I had eaten a couple of tangerines the night before and even they were tasteless as was everything (which is a side effect of having infected taste buds...the circle of life huh?) and I was uber stressed because I had been procrastinating quitting my job and barely slept the night before as I was filled with doubt and a bad case of the 'what if's'. What if I can't pay my tuition for school, what if I become homeless, what if there's a monster under the bed...you know, the usual.

Tongue zits? NOPE! Stress induced infected taste buds :(

Inspired Action, I Quit My Porn Job:

After a stressful night of tossing and turning, I woke up at 4 am yesterday and I gave notice to quit my job. The job I was doing was really brutal on my psyche and I felt like I was getting PTSD from it...no joke...every time I opened my laptop in the morning it literally felt like someone was punching me in the stomach and just before I opened it, I had to steady myself with this mantra "don't vomit, shut it down, disengage". See, just like most of the other jobs I have had in my life, this job wasn't exactly a conventional job either. Yes, it was just administrative work however, I was a personal assistant for a very famous porn star...specifically, a very famous Dominatrix (for all you Office fans out there, I was Assistant to the Porn Star). The money was great and I didn't have to work very many hours per week but this job required me to work 7 days a week and check her emails & Twitter first thing in the morning and last thing at night, every single day and night.

Now I don't know how you like to wake up in the morning or fall asleep at night, but I was starting my day off every morning with a big ol' eyeful of dick pics and these weren't your average, vanilla dick pics, no sir-ee these were some raunchy, dick locked in a chastity cage with a pipe up their penis hole type of dick pics. I stopped counting sheep to put me to sleep and started counting penises while singing 99 dicks in a cage on the wall (to the tune of 99 bottles of beer on the wall). At least I still have a sense of humour about it.

Don't get me wrong, I love me a weird job as it fulfills my life's purpose of doing strange & unusual shit that most other people wouldn't think of doing and then coming back to tell everyone about it and having a good laugh (like joining a cult accidentally, becoming a yoni masseuse and model, being a stripper, a professional poker player, being on a reality TV show, to name just a few...I have lived a 1000 lives in this lifetime) which also adds fodder to my ever growing comedy & storytelling act but no joke, this job was just so out of alignment for me that I had to start numbing my brain and my body so I didn't feel my soul screaming at me and shaking me to 'GET OUT NOW'. I totally thought I could handle this work but boy, was I wrong.

Sure, there are some great, raunchy anecdotes that I have collected to awkwardly break the ice at a snobby party or to be shared at intimate dinner parties & holiday celebrations but ~shudders~ I started falling into another depressive episode and I knew I had to let this go, my mental health could not stand to do this for very much longer and I didn't want to have to deal with the consequences of what I might need to do to keep numbing myself. I know when I was a stripper a decade ago and wanted to leave the job because I hated it so much, I turned to some hard drugs to numb me enough to keep working...I didn't want to fall into that soulless, zombified way of life again.

Still, it was a tough decision to give it up...I had so much freedom; I only had to work 20 hours a week or less, I got to work from home in my pj's, the pay was fantastic and I was basically my own boss but jeez...is assaulting my senses with the most graphic & depraved sexual acts, videos and pictures really freedom??? NOPE! I had no choice but to quit. I couldn't contain the lurching in my belly when I opened my laptop anymore.

I thought I would feel bad when I let it go, but I didn't...I felt free. Free of the gross dick pics, free of the depravity I would have to read from all the fans, of the videos I had to watch & edit, the pics I had to photoshop and I felt free to really focus on my therapy business and comedy career; to nurture that side of myself again or maybe I won't pursue that, who knows?! I am taking some time to feel into what the next step is. Maybe it's not being a psychedelic therapist, maybe it's not being a storyteller, maybe it's not writing my book...maybe IT IS doing all of those things? I am cool with not knowing right now and I am not attached to the outcome anymore. For me, this is freedom.

The first thing I did this morning was sit and meditate instead of opening my computer to face the twisted emails from the night before and my brain was like "THANK YOU" and my heart was like "THANK YOU" and my whole body was cheering for me as all the cells cried in unison, "thank God for no more dick pics!". It was a celebration inside my soul for sure. What a relief. I am stoked to see what doors open for me now that I have closed the porn door and I am looking forward to being in the discovery of what I will create now and what will happen next. Every part of me is vibrating with wonder. I have no clue what I am going to do next and I love that!

Today's lesson for myself and maybe for you too: 

Take time to listen to your intuition and to trust & honour what your heart whispers to you. Then love being in the mystery of what's next.

With love,

Patricia

Saw some graffiti art on my walk that spoke to me & this blog. 

You can follow this blog I Must Get Fit and get more Raw Vegan tips/stories on the FB page iMustGetfit or click HERE

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~
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Queen Of The Quiffs

When I was 14, I was crowned Queen of the Quiffs! In light of the Steve Harvey / Miss Universe Pageant fiasco last night, I hope this true and mortifying story helps those ladies feel better! This story will be included in my upcoming Comedy Memoir Book called My Eyes Are Bigger Than My Vagina. Enjoy and please feel free to share your embarrassing stories with me! 

***Warning, this is a Very Graphic post!  If you are sensitive to 'The Sex' stuff, then you shouldn't read any more of this***

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Totally Random!

Today I went into a rage spiral! While I was reading the paper,  I saw a link to a website and tried to click on it...it took me a while to figure out why the page wouldn't load.

Later on, I went shopping and I bought a brand of laundry detergent for the sole reason that it had a Chuck Norris seal of approval on it....I mean that's gotta be some tough assed detergent right? I will be selling ring side tickets to 'Laundry UFC', so you all can see this soap roundhouse kick my laundry in face :)

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~
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The One Where I Procrastinate

Today is the first day of my life...or maybe it's the first day towards my demise, who's to say? I am embarking on a new career, in a new city and I have no idea what the fuck I was thinking!

Last month, I finally made the decision to uproot myself from my comfortable, safe, boring little life and move to Vancouver to start my comedy career. A bold career move at 33!

Yesterday, I finally moved into my new ' $900 shared accommodations; listen to your roommates hair growing in her sleep because the walls are so paper fucking thin that if you touched them, they would crinkle', luxury apartment!

This morning, I sit in my new room, surrounded by 4 'walls' of tissue paper, a mountain of unpacked boxes and an audience of voices in my head that say 'what a Fucktard! You actually think you are funny enough to make it? You will be eating jam from a homeless guys toes in a month and you won't even be able to afford the bread to spread it on!'

Right now, all I want to do is figure out how can I get away with using a vibrator without the new roommate hearing it! For $900 a month, I should be allowed to masturbate all over the apartment, using a diesel powered meat curtain machine that would overshadow the sounds of most chainsaws, without anyone even blinking an eye!

Hmm what would MacGyver do? Maybe a pair of almost dead batteries will do the trick? Or one fresh one and one dead one = not so many vibrate-y sounds?

I'm not horny, I just need to take my mind off of all I have to do...um so I guess you could call it Procrastination Masturbation. That way at least I can feel like I have accomplished something today. But alas, these walls won't allow me to get the Job done!

Unpacking has never been my forte, but neither has anything else in life...good thing I am so optimistic about this fictional career!

After reading this blog post, all I can think is 'holy shitballs, what have I done?'
Over and out
Trisha
~I surrender to The Writing Womb~
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I'm back with some Style!

So even though I haven't blogged in about 5 months, some awesome person has given me an incentive to write again as I was emailed that I am now the proud owner of some fucking award that means absolutely nothing to me but still made me feel good to receive it because that is just how shallow I truly am! 

Yet I do feel entitled to it because I am totally stylish with my potty mouth and excessive abuse of swear words. Making words like 'Shmegma, Quiff and Beastiality' sound stylish, sure is hard work and therefore I accept this award! So thanks to you 'Clocks Declaring ' for honouring me with the 'Stylish Blogger Award' and for getting me back on the horse ( this is my segue to the last paragraph of this blog post, just so you know that this post does in fact have continuity in a graceless sort of way...that's right, I am all about Style now people, you may hold your applause until after the break). 

Also to all of you who bitched and whined for me to come back, all 2 of you...here it is...the post you have all been waiting for...trust me, this post is like Jar Jar Binks in the Phantom Menace...irritating, pointless and utterly uncreative.

Life in my end of the world is really really good...and when things are really really good, I don't feel like writing...must be that tortured artist mentality either that or the comedy writing team that took up residence in my brain is still on lunch 5 months later...and I forgot to fire them and hire new ones...man, where do I find a sweet job like that?

So trying to write when I am happy and satiated is like trying to give birth when you aren't even pregnant...nothing can be created except maybe a quiff or two...and PUSH! One more, come on, push that blog post out! Ah congratulations, it's a pussy fart with all 10 fingers and toes!

Mostly, my "happy writing" looks like I ate a bunch of Skittles and washed them down with purple Koolaide and then regurgitated it all over the page...sure it's colourful but there isn't much substance to it. 

Hey so remember way way back at the beginning of this post I spoke about a horse??? Well, I will leave you with this deep thought I just had about them...

'Fuck you and the horse you rode in on' is quite a saying!!
I often wonder what it really means…like if you say that to someone, does that mean you want to fuck a horse?
Or does it me you would like to have a threesome with the horse and its rider?
Or is it a really obvious way to indicate to other people that you have in fact forgotten to take your Meds because most people generally don’t ride horses around town anymore unless they are rich or possibly a part time Rodeo clown...and if you are in fact off your Meds and seeing Rodeo Clowns you should probably call 911...but I digress..

Whenever I hear someone say 'fuck you and the horse you rode in on' I think of how it surely must have originated...some cowboy with road rage is behind another cowboy who is being a dick by riding slow and not letting Ol' John Boy pass...as they both finally arrive at the saloon the second cowboy tilts his hat and says 'howdy partner' with a smug look on his face that says he knew what a dick he was being and then the Ol' John Boy just loses it and is all like 'I challenge you to a duel Pilgrim' and in some kind of word miracle the other cowboy pulls that amazing one liner from thin air....The first cowboy ever in the history of the world, to use that line!
I like to believe that Ol' John Boy just tilted his hat and said touche and then they all slapped their knees, bought each other a beer while firing their guns in the air and pissing in their pants because of the hilarity of that quick witted comeback ….but we all know the inevitable outcome of saying something like that back then was the second cowboy getting shot in the face...cowboys were killed for much much less back then.

I guess upgrading that saying isn't really as much fun, as 'Fuck you and the porshe you rode in on'... it doesn't have the same ring to it....because fucking a horse is really quite taboo, even in this day and age ...it's not yet something you can casually bring up at Thanksgiving Dinner...at least in most Countries. Although 'fuck you and the Retard you rode in on' could be even more offensive because nobody ever admits to fucking a retard or a horse :o)
Plus that just screams classy all over it doesn't it?

So, until next time everyone, fuck you and the Horse and/or Retard you rode in on :o)
Thanks for reading
Love Patricia

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

 

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Failure Smells A Lot Like Schmegma With A Dollop Of Warm Apple Sauce!

Poop, double decker, camel-toe-jam, kerfluffenheimer, fromunder cheese, schmegma, dollop, hand-me-downs, apple sauce, penis...

I tried really hard to come up with something interesting to write for you all but those are the only words that came to mind. I think I might have popped a large hole in my brain from how hard I tried...can you smell it? Smells a lot like failure and disappointment to me...ah the sweet aroma of failure how I have missed you so! Doesn't it smell good?

So, my gift to all you dear readers is that I will not try to continue this butchery of a post. So for the safety of your brains, enjoy the cartoons I just made :o)

Because poop has feelings too...and when it smiles at me I should really learn to smile back at it :o)

I use the word Kerfluffenheimer a lot! Most people want to know what it means and the truth is, Kerfluffenheimer means whatever you want it to mean...today it doubles as a really bad swear word or a really dirty old fart you have held in for much too long cause you are trying to be polite. But tomorrow, Kerfluffenheimer could mean something very different.

I always thought that Toe Jam sounded pretty yummy....but camel toe jam? Could be a new trend!



Sometimes I feel that the word penis is the real plural for pen :o)

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

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Holy Craparoni! A Butterfly Raped My Finger!

Hey bloggy friends! I am sorry for being such a slacker in my postings here at The Writing Womb but cut me some cheese errr...I mean slack.

The weather is amazing here in Thailand and considering the monsoon season has just been unexpectedly put on pause for the last week or so, I have been taking some time for me to do fun things like this;

and this;

and this;

So, as you can see, I am terribly busy right now with my schedule chalked full of all these tiring and not fun at all events *sarcasm intended* that leave me no time to remember things like what day it is or better yet, what month it is...all this sunshine has depleted my last remaining brain cells and I am uber forgetful these days. 

I will make some cartoons this weekend and find 2 healthy brain cells in this noggin' of mine to help me create something entertaining for your hungry eyes for Monday's post.

Oh, but for now, here is a slightly interesting story I wanted to share with you.

See, I was talking to a friend today and during our conversation, I pointed my finger at her and a butterfly landed right on my index finger. 

After I got over the awe I felt of how special I was that a butterfly chose to land directly on my finger, I started to feel a little violated when I saw him pumping away at my appendage like it was it's very own sex doll or something...what the hell butterfly? Stick with your own kind! I don't mean to be racist against butterflies or anything but really, he didn't even bother to use protection or lubricant and um maybe next time a little foreplay? I know I have a very attractive finger but what the hell am I a 1950's house wife? ( I just assume that all 1950's housewives never got any foreplay, I don't know why I think that, I just figure women who drink that much and require that many barbituates probably weren't getting any foreplay).

Anyways, at first, I felt so dirty...but then I remembered... this was the most action I have seen in a LONG time, so I shouldn't complain *smiley finger*

BEST FINGER RAPING EVER! Thanks Mr. Butterfly for making my day a special one...brings a whole new meaning to 'smell my finger' that's for sure.

Time to get to bed so I can wake up early and get back to my hectic life of beach bumming and snorkeling.

Loving all your comments and emails! Thanks for caring enough to write them...now smell my finger, it smells all rape-y! Isn't that special?

Smoochies

Patricia

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~
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I Wanted To Somehow Mention Jeff Goldblum In This Post But I Lacked The Creative Ability To Do So!

I was at work today, in my little registration hut just outside the yoga hall, feeling anything but Zen because of a certain flying insect that felt the need to swarm my head all morning.

I was trying to figure out why flies irritate me so much when it occurred to me, that flies tend land on and hover around only a few things: The starving 3rd world children, The Rotting Corpses, The garbage  and The Fecal Matter.

So, when a fly lands on me, I take it personally! To me, it’s as if the fly is deliberately insulting me with its presence. Like it’s trying to tell me something…Leaving me to wonder if I am a rotting corpse, or stinking like garbage or have somehow become a hungry third world child or maybe it’s trying to remind me of what a huge pile of shit I am…either way, it’s annoying and my self esteem plummets when they won’t leave me alone.

All morning long, this damn fly was flittering around my head. At first I would just brush it away and try to send peaceful thoughts its way but after like an hour, each time it came close to my head,  I was all ‘oh no you didn’t’ (neck attitude included) cause today is not the day to remind me of what a piece of shit I am. 

I began cursing at the top of my lungs and getting more and more annoyed while others became more and more amused of just how intensely focused I was at capturing and executing this little fucker.

So every time I got a glimpse of this annoying insect in my peripheral vision, I attacked the air like I was Luke fighting against the federation wielding my invisible light saber as I yelled profanities and Star Wars quips just to make it fun (I am pretty sure this is how ‘normal’ people get locked away for a brief period of time) *making Darth Vader like breathing sounds* Fly: ‘Patricia, I am your father’  Me: (best adam sandler impression ever! Think Happy Gilmore meets Billy Madison) “You’re gonna dieeee  flyyyyy!” Laser battle commences...cue the awesome lightsaber sounds *whhuuuummm, whhhuuummmm*

I was staring at the computer screen, trying to finish up some work when I saw him out of my peripheral, my back arched like a cat ready to pounce I stayed very still didn’t move a muscle…eyes focused straight …I was trying to trick the fly into believing I hadn’t seen him see? I was trying to show him I was still working see? oh yes I was being very very sneaky indeed… this was it…but as soon as I moved my eyes to the right it zipped out of my sight again! GOD Damn it!

I immediately took on Axl Rose’s persona as I shrilly said,  “You know where you are? You’re in the jungle baby!!! And your gonna DIIIEEEEE!” 

The people at the nearby restaurant were super impressed! They had breakfast and a free show!

My face contorted into some sort of golemnesque mask as I slowly wiped at  the area where the fly had touched me hissing ‘My precious. He wants the precious. Always he is looking for it.  But we mustn't let him have it.'

Man, was this fly fast! Seriously this fly had nothing on speedy Gonzales. Like maybe if you combined Speedy Gonzales with the Roadrunner and sprinkled some PCP over their heads and gave them one of those brooms from Harry Potter, maybe then they could compare to the lightning fast ways of this fly. Every single time I went to look at it and capture it, it moved out of my line of vision! It was like it knew if I got one direct look at it I would surely be able to end it’s annoying little life. This fly had the fucking Vulcan Mind Meld on me I swear! My mind to your mind Your mind to my mind ( I am such a geek to know this oh lord!)

I now am fully understanding of why cats will spend several hours chasing one flying insect…it’s not for the sheer joy and pleasure of it but because they are so fucking annoyed and must get even with the flying critter. There is some sort of twisted satisfaction you get out of killing an irritating insect.

I went back to my work and he showed up again but as soon as I moved my eyes he high tailed it away from me again!

I was hysterically livid …and then it struck me…um Trish, lets think about this for a moment… flies don’t have a brain large enough to conspire to irritate you nor do they have the ability to Vulcan mind melt with you…I nodded my head in agreement with myself…plus you have never once got a good look at this ‘fly’ right? So I moved my eyes quickly to the right and sure enough I saw my ‘fly’ again.

I took a look in a mirror and saw that it was actually a tiny mosquito that I somehow managed to annihilate with my amazing killer blinking abilities (now those are some mad skills right there, like some bad assed Karate Kid shit right there! Daniel-son aint got nothing on me, wax on, wax off!)

Its nasty carcass was resting right on my eyeball! I mean my eye was a little scratchy but I just figured it was a broken blood vessel or something from the lack of sleep I had the night before.   How fucked up is that? All that time, energy and terrible celebrity impressions,  trying to get even with something that I already had masterfully killed…I think a big DOH! is in order here! Like I should get a big wad of DOH for being so retarded (or maybe a 'special' helmet).

The Winner after this round: ME !!! So Suck it, Mosquito!

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~
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Rainbows and Dolphin Farts

My new bloggy friend Marcy over at Giddy fingers  commented on my last post about laser hair removal saying "If I were to do it I would get my entire body lasered (apart from my eyebrows and head otherwise I'd just look like a freak dolphin)"

This image in my mind made me laugh so hard a little brain flew out of my left nostril (even though I don't have much brain to spare, it was totally worth it).

So here it is, the dramatic before and after Laser Hair Removal of Miss Giddy Fingers. Check out her blog she's totally hilarious!

BEFORE 

 AFTER

Now that is one sleek and sexy Laser Hair Removal procedure! That's Dolphin Hawt!

I wanted to show the before and after pics of Spiderman's buttery balls but alas, those pics were waaaayyy too graphic even for this naughty little blog *crooked smiley face*

Anyways folks, I won't be able to blog again till next Thursday due to a redardedly busy schedule that has just happened upon me *wipes tear from eye* I will miss you all so much *Oscar winning performance*

So, until then, keep it smooooth!

Kisses and Dophin farts to you all!

Patricia ~ The Naked Writer

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Laser Hair Removal = Super Hero's Best Kept Secret!

I have always wanted to try Laser Hair Removal, but whenever I think about doing it, all these unsubstantiated fears come up and consume me.



Like how do we know it’s safe? What if voluntarily subjecting yourself to lasers gives you cankles in the near future?

 Thanks for the Cankle pic

What if leg hair becomes fashionable 10 years from now and then I will look like a plucked chicken that no man will ever find sexy?

  Thanks for the  Plucked Chicken Pic

What if I get lost in the arctic circle while looking for Santa at the North Pole and the only thing that could save me from hypothermia is curling up with my big bushy Paul Bunyan legs?

 Thanks for the hairy legs pic

What if when I am a senile old lady, I mistake my hairy legs for cute cuddly kittens that are always there with me, giving me something to live for…could I really deny my future bluehaired self that kind of pleasure?

Thanks for the cute kittens pic

What if the laser somehow deflects off my leg and hits a big shiny object like a desk or medical cabinet or something and then beams right into my eyes hypnotizing me to become the first anti hair removal robot. Where I turn into a lethal killing machine whenever anyone even mentions the phrase ‘hair removal’

That’s a little crazy I know! But we don’t know what these lasers are capable of…maybe that’s how the super heroes REALLY came to be…they were just regular civilians trying to rid themselves of excess hair…and poof laser in the eye! And now they have super powers and must save the fucking world every second of every day…what a pain in the arsehole…that theory makes much more sense to me than a spider bite or expedited human mutations.

Thanks for the Spiderman Costume pic

 

I also have an issue with Laser hair removal because it’s just a priest and a bottle of holy water away from being a modern day exorcism. Where we banish unwanted body hair as if we were (get ready to use a heavy southern drawl here) ex-or-cisin’ the demons! Sending that hair back to the depths of hell from which it came.

 The power of Christ compels you and so does the power of the Laser :o)

Anyone ever done this to themselves? Any problems? Does it actually work? Did you have hair removal remorse? Did you get cankles or Elephantitis of the leg area? Would love to know!

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

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