As I mentioned a while ago, I decided that I would write about my real life, in an attempt to prove to the masses of the internet that sex for money doesn't mean that I am a degenerate junkie.
Of course, having made this announcement, then my actual real life got flip turned upside down, fresh prince style. But with better clothing and worse jokes.
Now that I am back to regular scheduled programming, I have to find stuff to talk about, don't I?
And in an interesting crossover, I have to find things to talk about that are interesting enough to read, yet "normal" enough to help my case that porn people aren't that different from the rest of you. I may be the only blogger in the world debating if something is actually TOO interesting to write about.
Well, to catch you up, in the past month, I moved into a new place, which is much cozier (and all mine, thank god) but brings with it the fear that my neighbors may have a small issue with the amount of sex noise coming through the walls on a daily basis...I have also discovered that this new place is surprisingly easy to break into.
Don't panic, no one broke in. Well, except me. At four in the morning. Drunk. Oops. I may have forgotten (thanks, alcohol. I can always count on you) that unlike my last place, the buzzer does not go to my cell phone, so I need keys to get back in. One cigarette later, and I was climbing up a tower of recycling bins (only falling off once!) and sliding through the window into my kitchen sink. I didn't even break a nail!
Speaking of which, I got my nails back. In the grand tradition of break ups, I dyed my hair, and did the only other thing I could think of to change my appearance, which was to return to having extended claws. Ah, I love them.
Other than that, I am still, wonderfully, extremely boring. I get up in the morning (admittedly, much later in the morning than most people, seeing as 9am is early..), take my dog to the beach, go to the gym, do whatever needs doing, walk the dog again, make dinner, and start work. Not a needle or crazy club night in sight!
Apart from the piercing needles. Oh, and the other night when I did actually end up drinking in a club at 2am.
I think I may fail at the attempt to show my life as normal, but it is definitely going to be interesting!
Thursday, 25 April 2013
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Wednesday Reaction: Jezebel, Bingo for Misogyny
I'd like to start by saying that I ADORE jezebel. If I anticipate spending a lot of time writing Wednesday reactions to articles on their site, it's not because I dislike the site, or disagree with it, or really have any negative response to it at all. Instead, it is because I read it nearly daily, and because it is incredibly relevant to who I am and what I do. So funnily enough, it makes me think. When I think, I write. Simple as that.
Sometimes, however, the things I think are that some articles get a little too overly "feminist" - unnecessarily angry about misogyny in the media.
A prime example of this is "Bingo for a Misogynistic World".
The title alone bugs me with its negativity. The assumption that the world is misogynistic reminds me of a certain kind of woman. The kind of angry woman who can't listen to a joke, no matter how funny, without getting in a snit over the fact that blonde/bad driver/dumb women jokes are completely unacceptable. The kind that is as concerned about form as content in the media, but gets very, very angry when any OTHER woman is as concerned about her own form as she is about the content of her personality. In short, the worst kind of self-described "feminist".
The article is a set of three bingo "cards" with words/phrases taken from comments on articles/videos/web content. These are all words that are supposed to shock and appall, and we are advised to have a drink to "numb the pain" when we find one.
I'm pretty sure that the drink part is supposed to be a joke - hopefully the writer isn't actually advocating drinking as a way to deal with emotions. Of course, even as a joke, it is as miserably negative as the title.
Now, some of the words are definitely an issue. I won't argue that I am appalled when someone tells a complete stranger "Kill Yourself". And I understand why some of the words, those that relate to physical appearance, could be seen as an issue. It is definitely frustrating to see how much appearance matters to the media, if you are a woman, and seeing someone reduced to the idea of "fat" or "ugly" as the ultimate insult, well, that's not ok.
Yet, I think that if you take context into account, you will discover that the words are not the problem. That we could create a world where all of these words disappear, but the attitudes still remain, because the words are not the problem.
There seems to be a belief held by a lot of people that words create the world. As a writer, I wish that that was the case. As an optimist, I believe that changing your words can go a long way to changing your mindset. But also as an optimist, I believe that words only have the power we give them. That words are the way we express our thoughts - and that changing out words does not actually change the way we think, it just represents a deeper change in what we are thinking about.
Seeing all these negative words isn't just about misogyny, and claiming it as such is fairly selfish. Assuming that the root of the problem is a hatred for women seems kind of narcissistic, as a gender. It's not hating WOMEN that is the issue. It is simply hate. It is a lack of accountability for the things that we say when we are online, because you don't get to see the reaction. It is a lack of empathy for other people, a lack of awareness, of connectedness. Most worryingly of all, it is the loss of the ability to express oneself accurately, without resorting to mindless insults.
These are issues that need to be resolved at the level of education, of communication, of community. Not by getting angry that some stranger called another stranger a "cunt". By getting angry at the system that created a person with an inability to articulate their thoughts, and without the desire to do so. A system that creates people who believe that their opinion is more important than the feelings of others, and that it is necessary to vomit out every thought that passes through their head. And yes, I am aware of the irony of that sentence, as a blogger.
At the end of the day, its not about women. It's not about women as victims, or men as women-haters. And really, if you think it is, I invite you to peruse the cam rooms of male models. These are words and phrases that the average cam girl hears a hundred times a day. They are also words and phrases that the average cam-GUY hears just as much. I mean, not, TITS OR GTFO. But the phrase DICK OR GTFO gets thrown about. In fact, random insults, death threats, suggestions to suicide....these are just the tip of the iceberg. It may still be men flinging the mud, but they are flinging mud at other men.
Misogyny my ass.
Full Article Here
Sometimes, however, the things I think are that some articles get a little too overly "feminist" - unnecessarily angry about misogyny in the media.
A prime example of this is "Bingo for a Misogynistic World".
The title alone bugs me with its negativity. The assumption that the world is misogynistic reminds me of a certain kind of woman. The kind of angry woman who can't listen to a joke, no matter how funny, without getting in a snit over the fact that blonde/bad driver/dumb women jokes are completely unacceptable. The kind that is as concerned about form as content in the media, but gets very, very angry when any OTHER woman is as concerned about her own form as she is about the content of her personality. In short, the worst kind of self-described "feminist".
The article is a set of three bingo "cards" with words/phrases taken from comments on articles/videos/web content. These are all words that are supposed to shock and appall, and we are advised to have a drink to "numb the pain" when we find one.
I'm pretty sure that the drink part is supposed to be a joke - hopefully the writer isn't actually advocating drinking as a way to deal with emotions. Of course, even as a joke, it is as miserably negative as the title.
Now, some of the words are definitely an issue. I won't argue that I am appalled when someone tells a complete stranger "Kill Yourself". And I understand why some of the words, those that relate to physical appearance, could be seen as an issue. It is definitely frustrating to see how much appearance matters to the media, if you are a woman, and seeing someone reduced to the idea of "fat" or "ugly" as the ultimate insult, well, that's not ok.
Yet, I think that if you take context into account, you will discover that the words are not the problem. That we could create a world where all of these words disappear, but the attitudes still remain, because the words are not the problem.
There seems to be a belief held by a lot of people that words create the world. As a writer, I wish that that was the case. As an optimist, I believe that changing your words can go a long way to changing your mindset. But also as an optimist, I believe that words only have the power we give them. That words are the way we express our thoughts - and that changing out words does not actually change the way we think, it just represents a deeper change in what we are thinking about.
Seeing all these negative words isn't just about misogyny, and claiming it as such is fairly selfish. Assuming that the root of the problem is a hatred for women seems kind of narcissistic, as a gender. It's not hating WOMEN that is the issue. It is simply hate. It is a lack of accountability for the things that we say when we are online, because you don't get to see the reaction. It is a lack of empathy for other people, a lack of awareness, of connectedness. Most worryingly of all, it is the loss of the ability to express oneself accurately, without resorting to mindless insults.
These are issues that need to be resolved at the level of education, of communication, of community. Not by getting angry that some stranger called another stranger a "cunt". By getting angry at the system that created a person with an inability to articulate their thoughts, and without the desire to do so. A system that creates people who believe that their opinion is more important than the feelings of others, and that it is necessary to vomit out every thought that passes through their head. And yes, I am aware of the irony of that sentence, as a blogger.
At the end of the day, its not about women. It's not about women as victims, or men as women-haters. And really, if you think it is, I invite you to peruse the cam rooms of male models. These are words and phrases that the average cam girl hears a hundred times a day. They are also words and phrases that the average cam-GUY hears just as much. I mean, not, TITS OR GTFO. But the phrase DICK OR GTFO gets thrown about. In fact, random insults, death threats, suggestions to suicide....these are just the tip of the iceberg. It may still be men flinging the mud, but they are flinging mud at other men.
Misogyny my ass.
Full Article Here
Tuesday, 12 March 2013
The Naked Nerd Needs Costumes!!!
I love cosplay.
Let's face it, in a whole lot of ways, I just never grew up. I'm actually doing very well, as a Lost Girl. I've found ways to avoid any form of schedule, the need to wear a suit, the need to look "respectable", or any reason to stop watching Disney movies. Even at work. I've managed to create a life where I basically live like a horny, alcoholic 5 year old. I consider this a win.
Of course, there are some things that I am utterly unable to get around, like taxes. Like paying bills. Like keeping track of my own dental appointments - even if I never get a lollipop any more.
I like to balance out these occasional adult-moments with moments that are truly, unmistakably childish. Doing my taxes in a pillow fort. Making my breakfast into a smiley face. Going to theme parks.
And dressing up.
Which is why I adore conventions, and love being one of the people that other people take photos of. I love being the one that is the most accurate, has the most detail, looks the most like a cartoon come to life.
The point of this post? I need new ones!!!
If you don't ask, you don't get...so here is me asking. Do you like reading what I write? Do you think it would be awesome to see photos of me in incredibly cosplay outfits? Then please, please, PLEASE donate to my cos-play fund!! I have a con coming up in April, and would absolutely love to order myself a latex rogue catsuit (think 80s cartoon series)....do something wonderful and forgoe your morning Starbucks to send me $5...or more if you want! I'll be tracking the progress on twitter (and probably here as well) and putting up a photo blog when we get there!
Thank you!!!
To send: www.GiftRocket.com
e-mail is scarlettpenthouse@gmail.com
Name: Scarlett Moore
Let's face it, in a whole lot of ways, I just never grew up. I'm actually doing very well, as a Lost Girl. I've found ways to avoid any form of schedule, the need to wear a suit, the need to look "respectable", or any reason to stop watching Disney movies. Even at work. I've managed to create a life where I basically live like a horny, alcoholic 5 year old. I consider this a win.
Of course, there are some things that I am utterly unable to get around, like taxes. Like paying bills. Like keeping track of my own dental appointments - even if I never get a lollipop any more.
I like to balance out these occasional adult-moments with moments that are truly, unmistakably childish. Doing my taxes in a pillow fort. Making my breakfast into a smiley face. Going to theme parks.
And dressing up.
Which is why I adore conventions, and love being one of the people that other people take photos of. I love being the one that is the most accurate, has the most detail, looks the most like a cartoon come to life.
The point of this post? I need new ones!!!
If you don't ask, you don't get...so here is me asking. Do you like reading what I write? Do you think it would be awesome to see photos of me in incredibly cosplay outfits? Then please, please, PLEASE donate to my cos-play fund!! I have a con coming up in April, and would absolutely love to order myself a latex rogue catsuit (think 80s cartoon series)....do something wonderful and forgoe your morning Starbucks to send me $5...or more if you want! I'll be tracking the progress on twitter (and probably here as well) and putting up a photo blog when we get there!
Thank you!!!
To send: www.GiftRocket.com
e-mail is scarlettpenthouse@gmail.com
Name: Scarlett Moore
Crawling Out of the Pillow Bar (I mean, Fort)
I found my liver.
The poor thing was tied to a chair in a basement somewhere and being tortured for information. I think it would have given up all my secrets, if it only knew which ones its tormentors were after.
Or, to put it another way....I had a really bad couple of weeks and decided to dive into a bottle of tequila and challenge the worm in there to a drinking contest. I approached each day as a challenge to see how little of it I could spend sober. Frankly, this was a lot of fun. Lets be totally honest here, as a general rule, extreme debauchery and narcotics usually are - what other possible reason would there be for doing them? So I was merrily on my way to replacing my blood with booze when I looked at two things.
1. My calendar.
2. My bank balance.
That stopped me in my (slightly unsteady) tracks.
So I poured the last of the booze down the sink, and decided to re-join the world of the living. I am back to posting, camming, filming, and all kinds of generally adult behavior. Although for some reason, I have started referring to my neck as "the sink".
The poor thing was tied to a chair in a basement somewhere and being tortured for information. I think it would have given up all my secrets, if it only knew which ones its tormentors were after.
Or, to put it another way....I had a really bad couple of weeks and decided to dive into a bottle of tequila and challenge the worm in there to a drinking contest. I approached each day as a challenge to see how little of it I could spend sober. Frankly, this was a lot of fun. Lets be totally honest here, as a general rule, extreme debauchery and narcotics usually are - what other possible reason would there be for doing them? So I was merrily on my way to replacing my blood with booze when I looked at two things.
1. My calendar.
2. My bank balance.
That stopped me in my (slightly unsteady) tracks.
So I poured the last of the booze down the sink, and decided to re-join the world of the living. I am back to posting, camming, filming, and all kinds of generally adult behavior. Although for some reason, I have started referring to my neck as "the sink".
Monday, 18 February 2013
Monday Morning Rant: Queer
I understand why Monty Python is funny.
I have never once tried to say something in an English accent and laughed.
I know that there is no crisis that should not be met with a cup of tea.
In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm British.
Now, I am a weird hybrid of British, seeing as my lineage covers England, Wales, Ireland and Scotland, yet my parents (and I, according to the government) are also Canadian. But the Empire is still in my blood, and having spent my formative (i.e., drunken adolescence and early twenties) in London, I am definitely a British lass.
Which brings me to this week's Monday morning rant about the word "queer". Because in the UK, "queer" is now a word with two regularly used meanings.
1. The original meaning - something off, wrong, not quite right, weird...
2. The annoying North-American meaning - bi-sexual.
See, I'm bisexual. Or pan-sexual. Or any other possible version of a sexuality that conveys the message that I am attracted to personalities rather than the shape of an individual's genitalia. I will happily have sex, flings, relationships, whatevers....with people who are male, female, trans, or any other part of the spectrum, as long as they are funny. And nice. And hot. Really, if it's just sex, I only care about the hot part. Hey, I'm honest.
What I am NOT, is "queer". I cannot understand how on earth that is not offensive.
Maybe it is because my first introduction to the word was not through "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy", and that I understand that "Queer as Folk" is actually a common phrase, not just the name of a tv show about gay people.
Maybe it is because I have been called "queer" before anyone knew I was anything but the straightest of straight, and it was an INSULT.
Seriously kids. This isn't like the n-word, which was an insult to black people, and was then re-claimed by black people. Queer was never originally an insult to gay people. It was, and still IS, an insult to anything slightly outside the norm. You are not re-claiming the name for your minority in a positive way - you are actively adopting a negative term for something else, in order to describe your minority. And that is just freaking dumb.
Re-claim fag. Go nuts with faggots (giggidy) because I can't think of anyone who has used that word to actually talk about building a fire in the past fifty years. Go crazy with homo, find any other word you want and emblazon it all over your local soho.
But for the love of god, leave "queer" alone. Queer is an awesome word. Queer is a word for which there is no synonym to accurately compare. Some things are just a little queer...and I would be sad for the sake of the english language if we lost that word to yet another nuance of human sexuality.
Queer is also a negative word. Queer means weird. Wrong. Not-quite right. A little off. Strange. Odd.
And I may be all those things, but I am NOT a slave to annoying pop-culture distortions of the language of the empire. So if you call me queer, don't be surprised when I kick you in the <insert genitals here>.
Of course, for anyone confused by that last statement, if you use the word "queer", I never want you to insert your genitals anywhere. Maybe a meat grinder.
I have never once tried to say something in an English accent and laughed.
I know that there is no crisis that should not be met with a cup of tea.
In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm British.
Now, I am a weird hybrid of British, seeing as my lineage covers England, Wales, Ireland and Scotland, yet my parents (and I, according to the government) are also Canadian. But the Empire is still in my blood, and having spent my formative (i.e., drunken adolescence and early twenties) in London, I am definitely a British lass.
Which brings me to this week's Monday morning rant about the word "queer". Because in the UK, "queer" is now a word with two regularly used meanings.
1. The original meaning - something off, wrong, not quite right, weird...
2. The annoying North-American meaning - bi-sexual.
See, I'm bisexual. Or pan-sexual. Or any other possible version of a sexuality that conveys the message that I am attracted to personalities rather than the shape of an individual's genitalia. I will happily have sex, flings, relationships, whatevers....with people who are male, female, trans, or any other part of the spectrum, as long as they are funny. And nice. And hot. Really, if it's just sex, I only care about the hot part. Hey, I'm honest.
What I am NOT, is "queer". I cannot understand how on earth that is not offensive.
Maybe it is because my first introduction to the word was not through "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy", and that I understand that "Queer as Folk" is actually a common phrase, not just the name of a tv show about gay people.
Maybe it is because I have been called "queer" before anyone knew I was anything but the straightest of straight, and it was an INSULT.
Seriously kids. This isn't like the n-word, which was an insult to black people, and was then re-claimed by black people. Queer was never originally an insult to gay people. It was, and still IS, an insult to anything slightly outside the norm. You are not re-claiming the name for your minority in a positive way - you are actively adopting a negative term for something else, in order to describe your minority. And that is just freaking dumb.
Re-claim fag. Go nuts with faggots (giggidy) because I can't think of anyone who has used that word to actually talk about building a fire in the past fifty years. Go crazy with homo, find any other word you want and emblazon it all over your local soho.
But for the love of god, leave "queer" alone. Queer is an awesome word. Queer is a word for which there is no synonym to accurately compare. Some things are just a little queer...and I would be sad for the sake of the english language if we lost that word to yet another nuance of human sexuality.
Queer is also a negative word. Queer means weird. Wrong. Not-quite right. A little off. Strange. Odd.
And I may be all those things, but I am NOT a slave to annoying pop-culture distortions of the language of the empire. So if you call me queer, don't be surprised when I kick you in the <insert genitals here>.
Of course, for anyone confused by that last statement, if you use the word "queer", I never want you to insert your genitals anywhere. Maybe a meat grinder.
Tuesday, 5 February 2013
The Internet Has Funny Stuff
Once upon a time, I knew a very sensitive little soul who was less than thrilled when I decided that I would rather not keep having the sex with him. This was at least partially to do with the presence of a particularly gorgeous South African surfer....but also at least partially to do with the generally moody, sensitive, acoustic musician ridiculousness. I shouldn't have been surprised, therefore, when the cessation of our naked playtimes inspired him to write me a poem. On my wall. In BIG letters.
"Roses are red
Violets are blue
You're a fucking whore."
Succinct, right?
Maybe it is because of that, but I LOVE the various versions of "roses are red". Here are a few of my favorites:
That one also works for wine. Mmmmm. Wine.
"Roses are red
Violets are blue
You're a fucking whore."
Succinct, right?
Maybe it is because of that, but I LOVE the various versions of "roses are red". Here are a few of my favorites:
That one also works for wine. Mmmmm. Wine.
Monday, 4 February 2013
Monday Morning Rant: What an Easy Job You Have
Whenever I try to explain my job to someone who isn't in the industry, I get the same reaction.
Every. Single. Person. Makes some comment about how lucky I am to have such as "easy" job. How they wish that they could just lie on their back all day, and never get out of bed early, and how masturbating all day is just the easiest thing ever.
Then they act all confused when I punch them.
There is a prevailing assumption that any form of sex work is easy money. That all you have to do is whip out your lady parts and watch as a river of gold comes flooding in. I wish.
All you have to do to realize how wrong that assumption is, is talk to one of the thousands and thousands of women who try to work in the industry, fail, and leave. All of the girls who try to strip, and quit after a couple weeks when they are averaging $60 a night. All of the girls who sign up to a camsite, tank, and leave with only an extra couple hundred bucks for plastering their pussy all over the internet. All of the girls who trip happily down to LA, only to film one scene and swear "never again" when they realize how much work goes into it. There may be ten thousand women working and earning and making a living off a camsite, but for every one of those, there are hundreds who didn't make it.
Believe it or not, but the sex industry (and especially the camming industry) has a lot in common with all those other industries where you are working for yourself, just with clothes on. There is just as much background work, research, planning, admin....and it takes just as long to build up a business.
As I write this, I have been up since 7:30am. Although I may not actually even get on cam today, I will still spend hours "working". I'll spend time blogging, returning messages, filming clips, editing clips, uploading clips. I may well take some photos. I will probably spend time doing online promotion. I will definitely spend time online networking, and researching (that can be researching fetishes, other models, industry news, legal loopholes, or this time of year, the dreaded taxes). I will spend some time updating my earnings reports, confirming new sign ups, and filling in paperwork for payment processors. I will spend time working on building my website, and improving my pages on camgirl directories. I will bust my ass at the gym, because my body is actually my meal ticket, and I can't let it get unhealthy - seeing as there is no sick-leave when you work for yourself. All that before I actually get to the fucking.
It may be that I work so hard on the background stuff because I am still building my brand. I am still creating a situation where the money is just coming thick and fast (giggidy). But even those women that I know who are making obscene amounts of money are working long days and longer nights - they aren't slackers.
Do I love my job? Yes.
Does my job have some serious perks - like the ability to work without pants, drink on the job, and pick my own hours? Absolutely. In fact, these are some of the reasons that I do it. I don't want anyone to think that I think that my job sucks. Because it really doesn't. My job is awesome, and I wouldn't change it for the world. My job involves orgasms and silliness and very few moments where I have to feel like a grown up. My job is incredible, phenomenal, indescribably awesome as a career path.
But it is still my JOB, and that means that even if I enjoy the work I do, I am still working.
Therefore, may I ask, that should you ever meet a sexworker, and feel tempted to comment on how easy her job is because she just spends her workday on her back....think about how insulting it would be if she replied how jealous she was of YOUR easy job.
After all, Mr Office-Worker-Type, you only have to work at work...and even there, you just spend all day on your ass.
Every. Single. Person. Makes some comment about how lucky I am to have such as "easy" job. How they wish that they could just lie on their back all day, and never get out of bed early, and how masturbating all day is just the easiest thing ever.
Then they act all confused when I punch them.
There is a prevailing assumption that any form of sex work is easy money. That all you have to do is whip out your lady parts and watch as a river of gold comes flooding in. I wish.
All you have to do to realize how wrong that assumption is, is talk to one of the thousands and thousands of women who try to work in the industry, fail, and leave. All of the girls who try to strip, and quit after a couple weeks when they are averaging $60 a night. All of the girls who sign up to a camsite, tank, and leave with only an extra couple hundred bucks for plastering their pussy all over the internet. All of the girls who trip happily down to LA, only to film one scene and swear "never again" when they realize how much work goes into it. There may be ten thousand women working and earning and making a living off a camsite, but for every one of those, there are hundreds who didn't make it.
Believe it or not, but the sex industry (and especially the camming industry) has a lot in common with all those other industries where you are working for yourself, just with clothes on. There is just as much background work, research, planning, admin....and it takes just as long to build up a business.
As I write this, I have been up since 7:30am. Although I may not actually even get on cam today, I will still spend hours "working". I'll spend time blogging, returning messages, filming clips, editing clips, uploading clips. I may well take some photos. I will probably spend time doing online promotion. I will definitely spend time online networking, and researching (that can be researching fetishes, other models, industry news, legal loopholes, or this time of year, the dreaded taxes). I will spend some time updating my earnings reports, confirming new sign ups, and filling in paperwork for payment processors. I will spend time working on building my website, and improving my pages on camgirl directories. I will bust my ass at the gym, because my body is actually my meal ticket, and I can't let it get unhealthy - seeing as there is no sick-leave when you work for yourself. All that before I actually get to the fucking.
It may be that I work so hard on the background stuff because I am still building my brand. I am still creating a situation where the money is just coming thick and fast (giggidy). But even those women that I know who are making obscene amounts of money are working long days and longer nights - they aren't slackers.
Do I love my job? Yes.
Does my job have some serious perks - like the ability to work without pants, drink on the job, and pick my own hours? Absolutely. In fact, these are some of the reasons that I do it. I don't want anyone to think that I think that my job sucks. Because it really doesn't. My job is awesome, and I wouldn't change it for the world. My job involves orgasms and silliness and very few moments where I have to feel like a grown up. My job is incredible, phenomenal, indescribably awesome as a career path.
But it is still my JOB, and that means that even if I enjoy the work I do, I am still working.
Therefore, may I ask, that should you ever meet a sexworker, and feel tempted to comment on how easy her job is because she just spends her workday on her back....think about how insulting it would be if she replied how jealous she was of YOUR easy job.
After all, Mr Office-Worker-Type, you only have to work at work...and even there, you just spend all day on your ass.
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