If I’m not seeing stripper fever on Tumblr, or reading about how these young boys want to turn girls out, I’m hearing all about people getting naked for money IRL. Not everyday. I do have a stable circle of friends. But it’s 2012. And and young f**** of the 90’s have fantasized or considered dancing for dollars when the conversation comes up. Even me. Shouts to those who take it a step further from irrational jokes and figurative speech. The stigma associated with getting naked to get paid is far beyond my handling. I ain’t got the body type in the brown skin community. The thought of irritating black and mild breath cornballs or even Rick Ross gives me the creeps. Eww! I’ll pass. Plus my mama raised me right. So I just can’t. However, I do see why some of you can. This world is expensive. If you like material things and having fund$$$ fast, I can understand your hustle. Money hasn’t ruled me. I’m okay with my gift, my calling: which is writing, and writers obviously aren’t doing it to get paid. And that’s complete bulls***! As much as I love the perks, I would love to consistently be paid for what I do.
Anyway, I was browsing through some of my favorite dancehall queen competitions and got to thinking, if I had to, this is more of my style. I’m a bad gyal. I like costumes, nails, hair, and traveling. That’s a dun dealy! I’m just not capable of doing the splits or twisting my neck. So I guess physically it ain’t my speed either. Damn!
Now you know why I just stick to being good old Isis Nicole. The non-flexible smart. charming. lucky, or as I get often….sweetheart! Who just wants to make my mama proud. As much as I appreciate adult culture, somebody gotta represent for the girls who didn’t flaunt their wet traps. Might as well be me.