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GenCon Visit as the Kingdom Falters pt. 2


The Merchandiser area of GenCon is a mega money institution that caters to those involved in the gaming and cosplay world. Some businesses offer artwork for sale, or sculptures, but the majority of merchants at GenCon seemed to revolve around games and costumes. There was one unique table set up who professed to be there for the soul intention (no pun intended) of spreading the word of Jesus Christ. I couldn’t see any merch for sale on their table. They were giving away lanyards with full color badges, depicting Jesus holding a PS4 game controller in his hand, touting the slogan WHAT WOULD GAMER JESUS DO? Brilliant. I almost walked by those lanyards, had it not been for Miguel, mi hermano de este viaje, who grabbed one up and threw it to me. It scared the hell out of me for a minute; crowds freak me the fuck out. Too many bad concerts. Arena situations always make me twitchy so even if it’s someone I know coming at me fast, I get the Panic. Miguel seems to have no trouble jumping into the scene of the crowd and becomes really handy at pulling me into scenarios I probably wouldn’t have ventured into on my own thought. He can politely impose, I can’t pull that shit off.

Many in the upper echelons of business, entertainment and politics made a pact with Trumpenstein, the monster they had created. They said they would let him stay in charge-for now. That now came due when the Charlottesville tragedy hit and dropped the bottom out of his floor. He’s sinking fast now and little support is left for him other than what he gets from his base of voters; those who supported him among the common men and women and those who despised Hillary Clinton enough to go out and yank the voting handle. Not everyone who voted for Trump was an adamant supporter, but they were willing to jump on board and see where the cruise would take them. Then everyone waited to see what happened after the killing-what next? Those who still believe in Trump cling tight to him…as tight as he clings to them.

Gaming has stepped it up a notch or two since the days of Parker Brothers board games, like Monopoly or Risk. Involvement and tactics have become laws of logic within games, leaving their complexity at a level where you probably will use that Algebra learned in school. Not so much in a numerical format-more about dealing with variables. Variables are the key ingredient that stir up the rules of play for hundreds of different games being represented at GenCon.

Miguel took time off to attend GenCon from it’s beginning date and had a two day jump on me to see the sights. He said I had to see the ‘gnome people’ play live and he knew just where to find them. You can’t imagine all the games, costumed people, huge robot sculptures and inflated Pikachus you have to snake your way through to find things around here. I could have spent hours searching for the gnome folk, but after following him through the carnival atmosphere of the Con floor, he got me in front of a half dozen grown men and women in gnome outfits standing on a huge plastic sheet with shapes and paths printed on it. Their game mat represented some forest/woodsy theme and at various spots on the sheet, little stuffed animals or bugs were waiting to be put into play. Players rolled oversized foam dice to move. The vests they wore, the white cutout beards some players wore, it was perfectly charming. One man moved the number he rolled and when he stopped, the other gnomes roared with delight at the consequences that would ensue. They picked up a stuffed bee and plopped it on his cone hat. He had to wear the bee on his hat and playing continued. Another gnome kept the action alive landing on a spot near the bee guy, causing all the gnomes to chant….woot woot wooot…something like that. A confrontation began and the two gnomes started producing cards or some weird shit from a pouch they wore, which I assumed would result in a negative consequence for one of them. The point is, this was therapy for them. These people just want to leave the fucked up world we live in and drop all the politics, all religious persecution and the Fear, and go be a fucking gnome with a god damn bee on their head!

Trump still has the consent of Christian themed leaders Jim Bakker and Pat Robertson. If all other people abandon him, at least he has those two…for now. The reason I mention them is not to suggest they might become potential staff replacements, but rather to state their ability to milk large sums of cash from naive followers. Religious voodoo holds strong in various countries throughout the globe. America’s practitioners tend to hide behind the name of Jesus and wear nice suits. Really nice suits. They can raise a lot of cash and persuade a lot of minds. Trump might conceive a plan to twist old Pat’s arm for some bread, or maybe borrow Jim’s followers-or what if he could latch on to the teat of that Big Money showman, Joel Osteen?



GenCon Visit As the Kingdom Falters pt. 1


The Crimson King stands teetering on the brink of his own destruction while GenCon came to Sleepytown. Events happened so fast that I don’t have time to go into detail about every nuance of insanity the newsfeed dripped on us. I see stories pouring in so fast it seems impossible to keep up. In my mind, I hear Bob Dylan sing:
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end?

Visiting a Con, whether it’s GenCon or ComicCon or WizardCon (you can hunt down earlier posts on this blog where I experienced WizardCon on mushrooms) is an oasis of eye candy and spiritual connection for the kid in all of us. GenCon is a place where you go and be open, express yourself through make believe or play an elaborate game with likened enthusiasts. Observing the Con goers universe helps take my mind off the every day world you and I live in. The every day world, where some Neo-nazi punks and overzealous White Supremacists caused the death of Heather Heyer.

Days passed before President Trump voiced a response on Ms. Heyer’s tragic death, and that response appears to be the most difficult obstacle of his Presidency to date. If he survives this, then he must be the Anti-Christ, because no one has ever taken such a huge shit on the public-on the world-and kept their career. He is reaching proportions of disgust from average citizens that during earlier periods of history, led to Marie Antoinette getting her melon chopped off. Folks are getting that worked up.

Trump didn’t initially denounce Alt-Right followers, who are the catalyst for James Alex Fields Jr. going off the deep end in Charlottesville, plowing his car into a bunch of citizens. Trump told the public there was wrong on both sides, referring to the two groups of protesters at that rally and the immediate reaction from almost everywhere was disbelief and anger. His second attempt at a response to the Charlottesville tragedy, which had to include and apology for his earlier statement, came off like one of those forced statements hostages are made to read as a cheap camera records them in a concrete room. Those on air statements added to the line of snafus the Crimson King continues to pile on his shoulders. It’s reported he walks around, alone and aloof, brooding and unable to understand why so many hate him so much. He fires the main Puppetmaster behind his Administration, Steve Bannon; a sigh of relief from so many comes out with that move. People and organizations continue to peel themselves away from their association with Donald Trump. One of his favorite haunts, Mar A Lago in Palm Beach, Florida, lost nine charity event bookings this week due to his statements. Trump’s advisors were reportedly “stunned” by his going with that second statement to the press and can’t see how his presidency will recover. His own daughter, Ivanka, told him (in a more polite manner) that he should just shut the fuck up. His National Economic Council Director, Gary Cohn, is ashamed of Trump’s actions. Treasury Secretary Steve Mnuchin, the guy who stood next to Trump when the press conference took place, is trying to distance himself. Leaders locally and around the globe increasingly hound him on his egregious behavior. Top Generals from the various branches of our Armed Forces stand on the line of defiance to their Commander-In-Chief. Like the song says, the cheese stands alone.

Those are just a few of the reported things going on as GenCon swung into Indy. I was glad to experience it this year and almost missed it. I left the political chain of events to fall into play on our nefarious leader, to be driven on their own momentum.  I went to see the Con World.

I indulge in watching the Con crowds and have categorized three main tribes of Con goers; Cosplayers (and their followers), gamers and Merchandisers. The world of cosplay hosts people dressing up as the most recognizable iconic characters in media, like Batman or Star Wars characters, and runs a full gamut of strange beings, even including totally made up people; mashups of two or more characters from the realm of fiction. One girl dressed as some half deer/half human and I asked her what character she was.
“I just made this up. I guess I’m some kind of fawn forest creature….”
Sexy costumes, exact replica costumes, poorly designed costumes et al., walk the halls and stop to pose and be photographed. It’s selfie heaven and everyone gets to play, if they want. I saw a skinny twenty-ish male in a Sailor Moon outfit, a great replication of the female heroine from the famed Anime series, and no one is going to say a word to his five o’clock shadow. Cosplay viewing is one of the few, if not only, venues where men of all ages can take pictures of girls in skimpy outfits and not make it be creepy. No one wants the creep factor at a Con, and most no one ever gives it.



One life to Open the Game


Well they did it, folks, they raised the bar on citizen reaction in modern politics by giving us a kill. James Alex Fields Jr. has been charged with second degree murder in Charlottesville, VA, for smashing his car into a crowd of protesters, killing a thirty two year old woman. He injured a reported 19 other people as well with the car crash, so now the cherry has been popped on a new generation’s social/political  behavior. Rules have been broken and I now have to believe there’s a small, darkened room full of politicians somewhere in Washington D.C., old white relics in stuffed suits, wringing their hands with evil glee. Their formula has worked and they appear to have control over Trump followers, enough so to have them commit murder. The Crimson King has served his purpose and lowered the level of tolerance many of his more extreme supporters harbor. The hatred from those who oppose ‘fake media’ and “Hillary Supporters” (the woman appears to pull more power from not being elected, than if she were) will now be backed by the strength of legendary urban tales created from Field’s action. They can no longer be considered political activist virgins, they are killers.

The protest is said to have started over a proposed removal of the Robert E. Lee statue which resides in the city of Charlottesville. The semantics of the statue being allowed to stand, or being taken down, both are huge topics of discussion, but I won’t waste time writing on that debate. The people who live in their region have more a dog in the fight than me, because it’s their home turf. I will, however, qualify myself to look at and characterize the insane actions of one brainwashed individual that was driven to the point of taking a life and injuring others, all over his opinion. An opinion that was fed by the political agendas of a two Party system which can’t manage to get along on anything. A neighborhood and network of relatives and associates who classified Fields as a quiet person who kept to himself enabled him…we keep hearing about the loose cannons, the psychopaths that finally do snap, and I feel that number may grow. Certainly the potential for growth in numbers of loose cannons out there may be spurred by a critical lack of medical support for those who rely on meds to keep them together.

Our nation continues to crumble under the present Amerikan leadership, and we experience rot from within our neighborhoods. Neighbor battles neighbor as our nation’s infrastructure decays; and all this rang in a new level of bloodshed, Saturday, while I prepared to tour an historic old Coca-Cola bottling plant in downtown Indianapolis.

This tour was the nation’s largest Coca-Cola bottling facility (in it’s prime), now defunct and preparing to be scrapped after sitting years in abandonment. The eight acre lot is an architectural splendor to investigate, a showcase of Art Deco design from an era now past. They have made plans to tear down the Coca-Cola building(s) and surrounding ground to renovate into a new business area along Massachusetts Avenue. New facades, new growth for the area, a new era of development and progression. Now as much as I don’t have a dog in your fight, Charlotte, I will at least say that life goes on and sometime the old must make way for the new. Old factories die out, sometimes statues must be relocated; change takes place for different reasons, but is a statue really worth engaging a psychopath to take to the streets and kill someone? You can argue all you want about the ‘real’ issue being deeper than that, but after all the talk, it still boils down to someone being shot over a conflict that started from a statue. I have to imagine that the most pleasant memories Charlotte’s citizens hold dear to heart from growing up there, the history of their town, the citizens, all have little to do (directly) with the statue itself…certainly not such a reverence as to hypnotize someone into running over people with a car…not unless the person was Jared Lee Lougher, or James Cunningham crazy.

Here comes the bottom line, Alt Right enthusiasts: This time, you took out one of their people and want to justify and weigh that action on your core principles. Next time, they might take out one of yours. Is this how our nation should go down? Should the true enemy of America end up being our own citizens? A mutation took place once we allowed an ex-reality show tv host to be leader of the country and shit’s starting to happen real fast. We will have bigger battles ahead and haven’t even made it through Year One of this Administration.Which ever side caves in now will lose. The ante has been put in the pot; one human life. Who ups the bet?


Conversing With an Ex-Stripper pt fini


My conversation with Hunny continued and we refilled the pipe, me scrawling down notes as fast as she could recall the details of that time in her life. Working at different clubs gave her knowledge on how to bump up the dance/performance income with a small amount of marketing tweaks. She made sure to tip her support people within the club. Hunny said it was a necessity to tip the DJ playing tunes (some joints only had coin operated jukeboxes, but in a way, feeding a jukebox is like tipping it). DJs kept the songs on for your set and good music is an important asset to keeping an act alluring. She also tipped bartenders, waitstaff and security. This close knit group of people working in the club kept a dancer going; those who got her food between sets, made sure the liquor flowed when she needed it and protected her from any of the strangeness that may exist out there in the den of onlookers. Some DJs could be paid to keep a select song so no other dancer snatched it up that evening/shift. A girl wouldn’t want to be all prepared to go onstage and dance to Joe Cocker’s “You Can Leave Your Hat On“, and find out someone just did a routine with it. That would be like re-singing a song at a talent competition.

Songs and moves, catchy costumes and a certain, simple visual appeal or fetish, may be the thing to put extra money in the pocket on any given night. Hunny kept a back-up costume to change into, just in case a select, high tipping client walked in the door that preferred a certain look to his eye candy sessions at the club. Her normal attire was a funky, heavy metal looking outfit, but she kept a softer costume on-hand that sported a garter with her name emblazoned on it. Success in getting a good bank that night might depend on reading the crowd and knowing how to adjust your performance, how to dress for the occasion.

I asked her what her most unusual, most outstanding thing she did on stage was, and Hunny told me she had a routine where she would take a dollar bill and roll it it up tight, like making a coke straw out of it-but tighter. Her nipples are pierced so she would slip the rolled up dollar through her nipple, wind it up like an airplane propeller and let it go. Now I really wanted to see this because it sounded like one of those sights to behold-but I couldn’t lose focus. I was here for the interview, not for a show…although I might have to call her up on that one later, because it sounds too eye insanely cool. Next I wanted to know about the most unusual show stopper she saw being performed. Without hesitation she told me of a girl who would open her legs and place a length-wise folded dollar bill on her crotch, and puff the thing into the air. The appearance was that the strength of a queef was blowing it in the air, but Hunny informed me it was a trick and the girl actually puffed air from her mouth down along her belly to her vagina and that would generate enough push to put the dollar in the air…made it look like it was being airborne from a pussy fart.

I eventually learned the thing thing which caused her to go into stripping was the thing that drew her out of it; anxiety. Like a lot of us (myself included), Hunny suffers from anxiety and depression and worked through a period of searching out a better tomorrow for herself. We are all prone to looking and trying different things, and certain paths actually do work out for people for short periods at various points in their life. Stripping was just what she needed at that moment to get through a rough patch of coping in the world, and she moved on and now is in a different world, a different environment. Yet to know who this person is in the flesh and blood world out there, some might pre-judge Hunny and use it against her.

We all get on with our lives and leave a hundred personas behind, a variety of things we were once involved in. I will end this sermon and interview, folks, noting that we all walk down myriad paths throughout our lives, and we should savor the variety. For those who’ve never been in a strip club, they are like everything else which is unknown to you. We all fear the unknown and hate stems from fear-go face the foe once and see what you think…don’t pass judgement on everyone working at a club until you’ve experienced it yourself. You might find it vile, you might find it more harmless that you had thought…but at least, you will have sought the truth in person. You will judge on what you see, rather than what you are being told, which is becoming alarmingly more important now days.

..and when you do go into a club, be prudent with your money.


Conversing With an Ex-Stripper pt. 2


The ‘lot closer’ reference Hunny made left no doubt she was talking about full on penetration from a club patron. I’ve been to clubs and bachelor parties where this went on, but didn’t think it was governed under some rule of law, so much as an individual’s own ethics. Some will take the jump, others won’t. Again, judgement on letting a guy finger bang you in the dark part of the bar, or screw you in a small little room where they pay top dollar to get back there, is meant for some other blog post…probably from some other blogger.

Hunny didn’t go for the ‘lot closer’ scene; she only wanted to make enough cash to go out after work drinking with her friends. She wasn’t an ‘all about the hustle’ girl either, so she never really worked too hard at making club money. Just enough to party and pay some bills. All girls will set their limit based on how much they want to work, how much money they need to take home. If you’re a party girl, you’ll make your set bank and leave, if you can. If you can make enough cash to go out and have a good time, then that’s what you’ll do. Party girls are just one type who work in clubs. We paired it down to a nomenclature of five different groups of girls at any club she worked in: party girls, desperate single moms, girls who are all about the hustle, pole girls and junkies. Hunny was a party girl, which I’ve been describing. Desperate single moms is a pretty self explanatory moniker. Pole girls are those gymnast types who would rather be in Cirque Du Soleil, but do strip clubs as a compromise. Pole girls usually just want to perfect their craft in a club long enough to get over some financial hump, or perfect some routine, then they will move on.

My personal opinion is, the most dangerous girls in a bar fall into those last two categories; all about the hustle girls and junkies. Either of these two will give the nastiest, most x-rated performances, but make you pay the most-in more ways than one. AATH girls (all about the hustle) will seduce the money right out of a man’s wallet who isn’t careful, like some sexual siren. These type are more apt to pull a cutthroat stunt on the other girls at a club, like walking in on a regular customer to wedge a lap dance out of him first, or the worst, undercutting another girl’s price for a dance. Undercutting is unforgivable and if turned in to management, usually gets a dancer tossed out of a job. A successful AATH girl will not have to go to that extreme, because they have honed their skill to be a grifting succubus who can seduce you with luring words…and eyes…and tits. They can make a factory worker feel like he’s king of the world, until the money train runs dry, or a bigger tipper comes along. They play their audiences for top dollar and have a much higher bar of financial demands than the other type performers.

Last comes the junkie, who seems most similar to an AATH girl, but has her bar of financial expectation set to the price of her high. Like junkies of any sort, money needs are set pretty basic as far as clothing, food, shelter, etc., in comparison to the finances they’ll have on hand for drugs…drugs and liquor, usually, because they go so well together. Who wouldn’t drink in a place where they serve alcohol and solicit naked bodies shows? The temptation would be next to impossible to escape.

Now Hunny was certainly up to making quick money, if she saw an opportunity where she didn’t have to work that hard. Clubs next to airports and industrial areas seemed to be good cash cows for her. She’d be at a good locale and eventually, some new girl would come in and give a job lead on a ‘better’ deal; some club down the road where guys were throwing it away, or a good place for establishing regulars. Regulars are a boon for dancers. Hunny could always have a good tip night when a bunch of drunk frat boys came in to whoop it up, or a gaggle of men on a bachelor party hit the strip joints, but frat boys and bachelor parties aren’t always happening. They weren’t like a regular, who was there time and time again to throw out money. Establishing regulars meant a more stable income to rely on. Plus, from the different little stories she told me, her regulars were more apt to give her little gifts, bring her food or take her out on a platonic date. Regulars were there for something more than just the sex aspect. They were there for an ear to bend, for someone to listen to them. A cheap psychiatrist who would spread their legs and let you look.


Conversing With an Ex-Stripper – pt. 1


There are three types of people I just can’t enjoy engaging in conversation; extremists, racists and Juggalos. Everyone else is pretty much fair game to start up dialogue with.

One rule I learned from writing this blog going on six years now, is that whenever possible, it’s beneficial to get your information straight from a source directly associated with what you’re writing about. This isn’t always possible, but if given the opportunity, jump on it, because it will be very beneficial. Different preconceived ideas you might have about a group of people…various social class tribes bundled out there in the Great Amerika; some times, I expose my ideas as superstitions I held onto, or bad influence from the words of others that harbored hate and prejudice. Meeting with someone educates me and helps me discern between what I’m being told and what I’m seeing. These two things don’t always correlate.

I’ve been wanting to sit down and pick the brain of a woman who was a stripper for some time now. Outside of going inside a club, my chances of running into a dancer were slim to none, so, when I did run across someone who was articulate enough, and had been a stripper, I was beaming. This was perfect timing; this would break me away from the nightmare we are living in, away for a bit, from listening and watching images of the Crimson King as he broods around his emptying palace. I needed therapeutic human conversation to remind me that there is more to life than the drool they post online which covers us all in paranoia.

I know that a lot of individuals have their own experiences with being in that profession, or know someone who is, or once dated someone who did, and every one of us will have our own perception on the type of individual(s) a stripper is. This journal of my conversation with a girl I will call Hunny documents the questions that were on my mind, and her perception of the (as she puts it) surreal world of strip clubs. She has a pretty savvy mind, so I knew she would be able to convey certain aspects of the strip club business that typically can go unnoticed. Hunny had worked in dozens of clubs so that would seem to give her a broad analysis of the club scene…and why did she work in so many clubs in such a short amount of time? That could be another question I add to my list, but first, we both needed to get sufficiently baked and I had to break out my old school note taking gear. I prefer to write my notes on a pad of paper rather than using recordings for reference. By writing my notes as it happens, I can put in annotations to help convey what I’m learning. It also gives me something to do when I am sufficiently baked. One last detail was to get placed in an environment where I could sit and listen and not be distracted by outside influence. I had tried before to talk to girls in a club, but they’re in a club to make money, not to talk to some inquisitive ass, like me. Hunny had me come to her house and we sat down and got high and talked.

She was somewhere around twenty-three to twenty-five years old when she decided to start working at a club as a stripper. A friend of hers had suggested it to her a few times and with her feeling that she wasn’t cutting it in the nine to five world, Hunny thought this might work out for her. She told me at that age, she was a party girl (as youth persuades so many of us into being, at that period of our lives) and club money seemed like a great way to support going out and still having money to keep a roof. Some girls can make the jump and some girls will, some girls won’t. Hunny made the jump and started dancing in clubs-dancing and doing ‘sets’. That was one of the first things she made sure I mention; There is a distinction between a ‘dance’ and a ‘set’. A set can include a couple three minute minimum songs, or one three minute song and a long playing song, like Paradise by the Dashboard Light, that old Meat Loaf classic…Meat Loaf……she told me that one and I about spit up laughing, trying to picture how detailed a routine a girl would have to dream up to last out that tune. The highs and the lows…now that, would be showmanship. A ‘dance’ was a lap dance, a one on one performance, a close up and personal thing.

I remember Hunny telling me she stuck to working at clubs where the six inch law was in place. The six inch law means girls can be totally nude, but patrons have to stay a distance of at least six inches away from a performer. Other clubs were governed by laws which said the girls had to wear a long gown or some kind of material rather than being totally nude, but men could get closer than six inches…a lot closer.



Over the Line Show #81 Black Market Fidget Spinners

This is now one of my go-to podcasts…great background noise while I work on my projects.

The Over The Line Show / Podcast 42


On Today’s Show:

Weather Man Advice App, Jerk Geese, The War On Fidget Spinners, Bernie Sanders vs Megadeth, Catfish Day, Deer Road Kill Rules, Popcorn Wars: John Cusack, Al Capone Auction, Ugly Uniforms For Columbus Clippers, Italian Food And Roller Coasters, Norwegian Penis Rock, Jim Neighbor’s Han Solo, 100,000 Good Will Donation, Bands Banned At The Pentagon

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