Sucker Punched By Disruption

Okay, so there I was — starting the UGLY PORN BLOG to inspire women to get off their asses and jam like the revenue-generating professionals I know they can be — and KAPLOW! I got blindsided. Better yet, I got punched straight in the gut. We got summarily EVICTED from our luxury apartment of FOUR YEARS after being only TEN DAYS late on rent. We showed up in court with POSTAL MONEY ORDERS for the amount we owed and by gosh, apparently, management STOPPED ACCEPTING UNITED STATES POSTAL MONEY ORDERS. Go figure.

 Anyway, they rejected our money and kicked us out. We put everything we own, including jewelry and clothes, into storage. 

His job was sending him across America for the next couple of months, so I joined him. The job paid for hotel suites and vehicles — so we stored our car, too. We have a Boston Terrier; so we’d have to sneak her in to the suites that did not take pets. For the most part though, they did take pets (Poor thing. She is traumatized and follows me to the bathtub, now).
I can’t begin to describe the humiliation I felt as my spices, medicine cabinet toiletries and wet foods from the fridge (packed in a tub with ice we’d have to replace every so often) fell from the back of our vehicle onto the high-noon, convenience-store pavement in TWO DIFFERENT STATES. It was surreal. If I ever needed my mommy, it was then and there.​

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If I ever needed my mommy, it was then and there.​

This turn of events made all my work (for example: to create a paperless office space for you to see) completely irrelevant. How could I speak of success while I was packing stuff into storage and piggybacking on my husband’s out-of-town business trips (with my DOG, as well) so I’d have a place to sleep?

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Then it hit me. Being emotionally devastated and bunkered in strange hotel rooms is EXACTLY the place to build and succeed from! What the hell have I got to lose? 
My husband HAS a job. He has a diversion from the setback. He has goals. What the fuck is MY problem? I can’t tell you to get off your ass if I don’t get off mine. So I’m getting off mine and my plans for UGLY PORN are going forward. 

I will post hotel videos to our YouTube site in their own category. I think it will be amazing to watch this Phoenix rise from the ashes. I hope you join the movement. I plan to grow this thing like jack’s beanstalk! lol 

The Currency of Tears

I’m sitting here listening to “Who do You Love ” by Bernard Wright — and I’m crying like nobody’s business. Every time I hear that song, I go straight to  1987. I was stripping in a Fairbanks, Alaska club that summer. Why? Well, I’d inherited a house and some land. I’d also inherited the property taxes and the hospital bills in lien against the property. As a part Native American woman, I knew the value of owning real property. All I heard growing up were stories of how our land had been sold to “white people” by dumbfuck ancestors who couldn’t see the forest of future prosperity for the trees of dumbfuck desperation. I was told that I owed it to my ancestors to keep the land we had in the family.

That was a heavy mandate for a single mother of 27; with a child who had been kidnapped by the father’s family. There were custody fights and lawyer retainers to consider. My family didn’t seem to care, though. They were consumed with the idea of our land being taken by oppressors. Yet, nobody was going to give me a plug fucking nickel to pay for either the legacy bills I’d inherited or the costs associated with fighting for my only child.

     I remember crying in 1987, too. I fell limp across a secondhand sofa I had and I asked God, through the sniffles and snots, what the fuck he wanted from me.

I saw an ad in the paper for dancers wanted in Alaska. They paid your airfare — and paid your way back, too; but you had to work for the return trip. Otherwise, your ass was flat stranded in the nexus of the Aurora Borealis. At this point, I was numb. How else could I save the family land AND get my child back? I was a secretary at the phone company with barely a pot to piss in. Everything I owned was from some thrift store, or other; right down to the pots on my stove. Y’all just don’t know —  I felt completely depleted and absolutely defeated. My self-worth was moist and molding in somebody’s sub-basement some fucking where.

I took the trip to the tundra and I danced. Funny. On RuPaul’s TV drag show awhile back, he used to say, “Lip Sync for your life.” I guess that’s what I did. I shook my ass and bounced my titties for my life. I danced for the hopes of being able to pay for a lawyer to represent me in family court. I danced for the hope of meeting my family’s expectations by saving the land and property that was willed to me. I danced for the fantasy of seeing some lusty dick in the club who might just give half a good goddamn about whether I was coming, or going — if he was wasted enough. I shook to “You Shook Me All Night Long”, by AC/DC; I bounced to “Something Just Ain’t Right”, by Keith Sweat and with tears stinging and streaming down my smiling, aching face, I danced to “Who do You Love”, by Bernard Wright.

So I’m still sitting here, but after blogging down memory lane, I’m no longer crying. I realize that those tears I’ve just cried out are my currency. I have paid the cost to be THE BOSS and now that I am UGLY PoRN, I’m going for it. You don’t have to sing to me any more, Bernard. I finally know who I love. I love me.

What’s with the name, UGLY PoRN?

I know, I know — what’s with the crazy name? Is UGLY PORN a name that’s supposed to render some shock value in a world where folks are getting beheaded on a regular basis? No, not at all. UGLY PORN is a name that MEN came up with; to describe just about any kind of woman who is older than eighteen and who has the nerve to think she is attractive.

So, welcome to UGLY PORN — an idea that has been a long time coming. Starting off as a simple blog, UGLY PORN intends to expand and transform into a MAJOR resource for women over 45; who feel the pull of the past and the tug of time on their often suppressed dreams.

Don’t worry — this is not another blog to tell you that you are special and that there is room in the world for you, too; or that your mind and body need to flow with your spirit, your new hairdo plus makeup tips. If you are into this blog; you are at the point where you could give a flying fuck about how special the world thinks you are. You already know that the world doesn’t think you are special, at all. Have you tried getting a job commensurate with your education and experience, lately?

The kids have left home and could care less about calling. According to them, you have no idea how to raise young children like theirs — and Lord help you if you have an opinion on a twitter trending topic. You will be seen as a complete embarrasment. You might be married — but doing anything and everything to avoid having sex, or thoughtful conversation with a midlife woman is such an emphasized chapter in the “Husband Handbook” — It’s almost a requirement.

Your friends, if you have any, may also be the type who blather on and on about the things that are going wrong in their lives. They want to vent; they need somebody to talk to. They may also be the type to get offended if you don’t answer your phone and listen to that bullshit, day-in-and-day-out. It’s like their mission in life is to depress the fuck out of you, too!

You may also be an ethnic minority; in which case adding advancing age and being a woman creates an even more solid position for you in the arena of the societal discard.

In any case, you understand that the general population could care less whether you are coming or going — and has no plans to notice your existence. What better time then, to create the life you have always wanted to live!

UGLY PORN intends to offer you hardcore, concrete ways to make money, travel, get motivated and succeed. Why? Because making money FOR yourself and BY yourself offers options to the invisible citizen who is not afraid to go after it. Making tons of money offers the freedom and independence you need to show the world that it can kiss your “old”, “ugly” ass!