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On Fire by Penny Flame


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Penny Flame

Workers Comp and Lawyer Secretary Shoes




There is a deck on the back of my house, and through the beams supporting the roof, the moon, nearly full, is shining so brightly that I don't need the light from my laptop. Well, I don't know this for sure because I have no clue how to turn off all the lights on this thing. It kind of looks like a glowing spaceship, and I credit that to the very first bowl of the day, a little pleasure of which I partook about ten minutes ago. First bowl of the day at 9:56pm. Long day my friends, long day.

The day started in Portland, OR, with me getting on a flight to Burbank at 8am. I had to be there at 7 so the day actually started at 6:45. None of this matters. Just fun time facts to plot my day.

I went up to Portland to watch my little bro graduate high school. The whole family was there. EVERYBODY. Wild. And nobody fought. Well, not in my presence. I hung out mostly with my mom and step dad, eating and drinking and being merry in a generally merry way. My moms and step dad are stoked that he got his diploma, my dad is stoked that we all came together, even if for a little bit, and we were all stoked to be there. Stoked stoked stoked. The more I say the word the funnier it sounds. No more stoked.

So I got my butt on a flight this morning, made it to Burbank by 10:30am, went home, showered, shaved, did not shit though, even though that would be the natural flow of the sentence, and then I hit the road to go work on PT's recreation of Deepthroat, for Vivid. 1pm.

On the way I had to stop and get a business suit that could pass for cop attire. The only police uniform I have says "officer naughty" on it. J

I realized nobody was talking to me or helping me because I was in my pajamas, and fresh out of the shower. I think they were freaked out by my lack of caring while shopping for shit that I should care about. The lady that finally did help me, Lucy, said this:

What's the suit for?

Me: Work.

Lucy: What KIND of work?

Me: You know, like office stuff. Like a.....secretary! Yeah, I'm gonna be a secretary.

Because if I would have told her that I am going to be a cop, she would have looked at me funny. Well, funnier than she was already looking at me. And just try explaining to someone that you aren't going to be a real cop, but a cop in a porn, called Deepthroat, and guaranteed nobody will help you. Period. Even if I had pulled my pants down and my pussy had started growing money in place of pubic hairs, nice fresh little rolled hunids, all for the spending and contribution to her shitty commission. She would not have helped me, and this I can guarantee. Now the girl who sold me the shoes was different. I guess that's why she's in shoes right?

The girl that sold me shoes asked the same thing about my purchase (she was a tad more observant and said, "these are a little conservative for you yes?") started asking about what they were for, and since I had already made up this great secretary story I figured, "fuck it, run with it".

Her: So, what are the shoes for?

Me: Oh I've got this job interview to be a secretary.

Her: Oh neat for what kind of company?

Me: (in my head) Shit I didn't think this out.

Her: (without giving me time to respond) Is it a law firm?

Me: YES! How did you know? Isn't that funny. These look like a lawyers secretary's shoes don't they.

Her: Do they have workers comp?

Me: yes, and full medical and dental. OH! And a 401K!

Her: But workers comp? that's really important.

Me:.....yes.....workers comp......thank you very much. I will try not to hurt myself in these fabulous lawyer secretary shoes.

Her: Good luck!!!

I left her, and I think we were equally confused. She had no idea that the likelihood of me getting hurt in these shoes is very slim, mostly because I will be wearing them while laying down. Not that I could get that hurt typing something some dick was saying anyway. But I was confused as to why its so important for her to have workers comp? I mean, are you just going to hurt yourself as soon as you get the job?

This lead me to thinking. We don't have ANY of these things in adult. There is no medical, there are no dental benefits, (and dentist could make a killing grinding bitches back teeth down so they could fit more cock in their mouths), there is no union, no workers comp.

Me: mmmm......so the funniest thing happened. I was walking and I slipped wearing these funny lawyer secretary shoes and I fell right on this cock! I'm going to need workers comp.

Director: BITCH THAT'S YOUR JOB!

So then I head down to the old looney bin/"community hospital" in Linda Vista. Freaky as fuck. This place is mad scary. Hecka haunted. Whatever. Sasha Grey was inside so I ran in like a kid running into Disneyland. Sasha is one of my favorite performers. Not because I watch any of her scenes, although I have seen her get fucked a couple times, and not because everybody I talk to has wonderful things to say about her, even though that would be a good reason. No. Sasha grey is one of my favorites because when you look in her eyes and have a conversation with her, she is conscious. So much so that it carry's over into her sexual performances. It seems to me that for her it isn't a sexual performance, but a sexual experience. Which is really refreshing to see. There's a lot of performances, and a lot that can't even call themselves that. But Sasha is rad. And she's the Deepthroat girl, the girl that dies because I am a bad cop and I'm fucked up on "Bills and Pooze" and Tommy Byron so adorably misspoke. So I never get to be in a scene with Sasha, not even dialogue. I'm investigating her death. GAY.

Whatever, I'll just hang out with her anyway. I totally wanna do it to her when nobody is looking. Well, she can look. In fact, I want her to look.

So after we settled and got things moving in a pornographic direction, Tommy Byron, who is playing my partner Joe Gillet, and I had sex. It was no regular sex. It was.......

Alley Sex. I'm still dirty from it. Covered in filthy dirty alley yuck. Fucked on a box. Big box, but a box nonetheless. I had a sponge in (all porno girls shove sponges up their cunts whenever they start bleeding so they can still work. I am about to start so it was preventative), and I took it out and there was no blood.....gasp.....just fucking dirt. How gross is that?!?!?!? I douched again, and am leaving her alone tonight, and maybe tomorrow, but it was pretty freaking sexy (not the dirt in the cooch, but the sex). Tommy and I have great sex, and we currently hold the best couples sex on film for 2008. Film is no longer a category, and I think this is because Tommy and I were so awesome that they decided we get it eternally. Horray us.

Anyway. It was great. Then I got home, smoked a bowl with you, and now I'm going to shower, blowdry, lotion and sleep. Sweet sleep. Gotta go shoot for Kink tomorrow am. 7:45 pick-up. Going to SF. Then shooting for vivid the day after, and the day after, and......maybe forever.

Man, they don't even know what they got themselves into hiring me. I got my little lawyer secretary shoe in the door and I'm fitting to kick it open. And dance in the lobby. Until I get kicked out. Which usually happens pretty fast when I'm dancing in the Vivid lobby and singing at the top of my lungs. 

Rambling now, hungry for ice-cream, nighty night. 


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