Sep 22, 2026 · 40 min · 9 segments
We’ve all heard the old cliché a million times: **“You really can’t judge a book by its cover.”** We say it when a movie surprises us, or when a cheap restaurant turns out to have the best food in…
Valerie StunningGuest
Laura DesireeGuestEpisode Narrator and HostHost
Peekaboo PointeHost
I am a writer, community organizer, entrepreneur, and retired sex worker for 13 years.
Today, I'm going to be reading from my blog, a piece that I wrote after a year of being off of social media, when I had time to kind of steep on, I guess, stories from the club.
There are countless first responders, firefighters, search and rescue workers, EMTs, law enforcement officers, ER nurses and doctors, military members, and even a Homeland Security guy or two who have paid to see me naked.
especially because my experience of performing as a stripper for the last 13 years was that nudity was the amuse-bouche, but rarely the meat and potatoes of what these folks saw at the club.
First responders like 98% of people I've entertained often came for the titties and stayed for the connection.
It's a group of people I was regularly stoked to engage as no one appreciates a smiling professional party girl more than a person who regularly bears witness to the worst day of people's lives.
I have a long history of not trusting cops It's a seed that was first planted as a kid, witnessing domestic violence, later reinforced as a troubled teen, and proven again and again as an adult, particularly during my tenure as a sex worker and community organizer.
To the point, if I met someone at work who admitted to being a cop, typically from another city or state, I would just get up and walk away.
Heralding an ACAB ethos, all cops are bastards in case y'all didn't know, has been a fixture in both my personal and professional belief systems.
And because of what I've personally experienced and witnessed, heard firsthand from sex workers I've organized with, and learned from documented historical and modern day policing practices, I have felt justified in never questioning myself about this.
That is until a series of encounters at a ramshackle nudie bar in Colorado Springs.
I am a writer, community organizer, entrepreneur, and retired sex worker for 13 years.
Today, I'm going to be reading from my blog, a piece that I wrote after a year of being off of social media, when I had time to kind of steep on, I guess, stories from the club.
There are countless first responders, firefighters, search and rescue workers, EMTs, law enforcement officers, ER nurses and doctors, military members, and even a Homeland Security guy or two who have paid to see me naked.
especially because my experience of performing as a stripper for the last 13 years was that nudity was the amuse-bouche, but rarely the meat and potatoes of what these folks saw at the club.
First responders like 98% of people I've entertained often came for the titties and stayed for the connection.
It's a group of people I was regularly stoked to engage as no one appreciates a smiling professional party girl more than a person who regularly bears witness to the worst day of people's lives.
I have a long history of not trusting cops It's a seed that was first planted as a kid, witnessing domestic violence, later reinforced as a troubled teen, and proven again and again as an adult, particularly during my tenure as a sex worker and community organizer.
To the point, if I met someone at work who admitted to being a cop, typically from another city or state, I would just get up and walk away.
Heralding an ACAB ethos, all cops are bastards in case y'all didn't know, has been a fixture in both my personal and professional belief systems.
And because of what I've personally experienced and witnessed, heard firsthand from sex workers I've organized with, and learned from documented historical and modern day policing practices, I have felt justified in never questioning myself about this.
That is until a series of encounters at a ramshackle nudie bar in Colorado Springs.
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