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Post-tour funk (you can’t really dance to it)

Post-tour re-entry has been a little rough, people, I'm not gonna lie. It's been about 6 weeks, and I'm just starting to wake up again and face the day-to-day realities of doing full-time phone sex: bad body posture from slouching around on my bed all day (damn, and I left my lap desk in Montreal); the self-denial of needing to stay in most evenings and be available for calls; the interrupted dinners and cold pork chops all over again.

I'm living a sedentary life again, and that is a challenge. I didn't even think about how active my life was on tour while I was doing it, because it just had to be done. And then, boom, 6 to 8 hours a day walking around down to zero again. I mean, never mind all the face-to-face people time that I'm no longer getting! It's a surefire recipe for post-tour funk.

The late-night hours have taken some getting used to, too, even though I was definitely living the night life out on tour. It's one thing to be up until 3am because you're hanging out with other performers at a bar, and another thing altogether to be up until 3am because you're hoping against hope that you can slip one last call into the pay period.

It's taken time to let customers know that I'm here again. I knew heading out on tour that I'd be losing some regulars, but I didn't know how many and how much that would affect my pay. Some have managed to find me again, either while I was traveling or now that I'm back, but most have moved on and found another girl to help them get their rocks off, which I don't grudge at all. I'm good, yes, maybe even great, but I have no delusions that I'm irreplaceable.

I knew it, but it's still a hard truth to face: phone work is a totally different venue for my performing skills. It just is. A show has reviews, and blurbs in the program books, and a script that's all dog-eared, and people who are still staying in touch to find out when I'm bringing Phone Whore back to their city, or what my next play is about. Phone sex is ephemeral, and most of my fans last as long as it takes to accumulate a load of crusty socks and run them through the wash...

So, in case you were wondering where I've been, it's not that I'm not here, because I am. It's that I'm working on being back.

SMUT SLAM = erotica + poetry slam + my dirty mouth

Oh my god, there is so much coming up in the next few months, and yes, I will tell you about all of that soon, but I wanted to get you started with THIS...

Little Black Book Productions PRESENTS

SMUT SLAM

Wednesday, February 23, 2011 * 6:30 to 9pm
Kennedy's Midtown, 42 Province St. Boston
...(5 minutes from Park Street or State St. T)
Admission: $5, 21+ only

You know what a poetry slam is, and maybe you know about story slams, too.** Now it's time for Boston's first-ever SMUT SLAM, a fast-paced night of storytelling based on real life, real lust, real sex. The theme for this SMUT SLAM is "surprise!"

SMUT SLAMMERS sign up on the night to tell a 5-minute piece of smut/sex/erotica, based on their real lives and ideally relating to the them of Surprise!, and a lucky eight to ten names will be drawn at random. There will be a team of 3 to 5 judges - interested amateurs, storytellers, theater people, sex workers, and anyone who loves sex stories. At intermission, slammers and audience alike have the opportunity to challenge Cameryn Moore, the Phone Whore, in a lightning-fast IRON SMUT ROUND, where participants receive 3 randomly chosen words or phrases and then must use those in two-minute smut fictional narratives created ON THE SPOT.

NOT A SMUT SLAMMER?

Don't worry. The audience is in for a good time at SMUT SLAM! Sit back and enjoy. All we ask is:
- No interrupting.
- No heckling.
- No necking.

Get complete rules at the Facebook event page!

Search-term syntax and finding the Phone Whore

... or, How the FUCK did they find me with THAT?!

I did this once before and it amused me to no end. Now that I'm trying to get back on the blog-horse, after 6 months on the road (more about that in subsequent posts), I thought I'd try it again as a nice re-entry point.

WordPress, you see, can tell you the terms that people use when they stumble across your blog.  And I gotta say, although I can't figure how to use this for marketing purposes, it cracks my shit up. Let's take a look at the breakdown for the last 7 days, shall we?

38 variations on Cameryn Moore, Phone Whore.
After doing 73 shows in 18 cities, with posters all over the fucking place, I should hope the name is sticking in people's heads at least a little bit.

10 cuckolds. These are some of my more involved specialty calls, so of course I've written about these. Excellent search combos include "what it's like to be a cuckold" (well, embarrassing, right?), "sissy cuck toilet slave at a party" (you know what they say about parties: clean up as you go along!), and my personal favorite of this crop, "swingers Jamal cuckold" (there's a story right there, in three words).

8 searches for "toilet slave", including the obvious variant "shit pig". If I were really into scat as part of my sexual identity, I think I'd probably go with shit pig, rather than toilet slave. It feels so much more empowering, you know?

7 for "office fuck". Are they looking for tips for making that happen?

And the rest are one-hit wonders like "free streaming mature perversities", "cream pie housewife", and "selebratie tits". That last one I don't know if they meant "celebrity tits" or "celebrate tits". Either way, baby, I got 'em and I DO.

*************

Starting this week, I'll be digging back through 6 months of my show Phone Whore and bringing out the highlights reel. I mean, for those of you who follow me on facebook, you know a lot of it, but it's different when you're not limited to 420 characters. And stay tuned for exciting news about my radio show and more public appearances, and PLANS FOR NEXT YEAR'S TOUR. Yep. I'll be doing it again, and maybe this time you can catch me!

First weekend on the Fringe

Everything held together, Phone Whore premiered in Montreal and did great, the pissy weather held off until today, and now my head and feet are aching from too much walking and not enough sleep. I have some pictures on my computer, but I need to sort through them. Here on my homestay desk I have a heap of coins that still feel like play money. Receipts are stacking up; time to do some filing. And today I go and open my Canadian bank account. Woo-hoo! That's show biz.

Meanwhile, on the phone-sex front things are going slow. I have been working round the clock for so long, and evenings are when most of my regulars call. Have called. Used to call. I'm plugging in and putting in that 5 hours a day, but those are daytime hours and really I'm just covering the lines. And when you throw the travel days on top of that, well, it's just going to be slow and my boss isn't very happy. Sigh. I really do need something better than rain outside right now.

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I may be keeping my photo diary on facebook, so make sure you friend me over there!

a semi-real moment in an unreal life

I love the calls where I get to be myself.

I mean, I'm never myself entirely. I'm always my PSO name who, depending on who I'm talking to, may be anywhere from 29 to 58, with 0 to 2 kids (possibly nursing), a time-share in a dungeon, a husband and two lovers, and/or an 8-inch fully functioning dick.

But some callers, like the guy I just finished, they are so ready to talk and take whatever I dish out, I can let my personality setting slide pretty damn close to the default. Because I don't have to keep track of my vocal pitch, or whether I'm laughing too much, or whether my pussy is shaved or not. I don't have to steer clear of my fingers in his ass, or pinching his balls, or getting him into an old pair of his girlfriend's panties.

I don't even need to worry about whether he prefers "dick" vs. "cock", because he really is into anything. I just get to curse him and pound the armrest of the easy chair and pull out all the good stuff from my virtual sex-toy chest. I tell him in detail about all the tastes he's getting--sweat and pussy juice and that flavor that can only be found two inches deep into my ass. I pin his arms down with my legs, tease his cock that's trapped in a pair of green satin panties, and by the end of the call I'm laughing loudly, in my normal laugh, while he catches his breath and jokingly grouses about having to wipe his own come off of his neck.

I'm not coming, but DAMN, I'm having fun.

***********

Just so you all know, I am going to be posting notes and photos and vids from my tour at this blog. So sometimes you'll get stuff like today's note, you know, lotsa good raunch, and occasionally you might get a picture of me wearing a fedora and putting some Fringe staff member in a headlock. Just saying. Things could... get a little random up in this joint.

Cameryn feels right at home at Bent Wit: Fantasy!

Title: Cameryn feels right at home at Bent Wit: Fantasy!
Location: Club Oberon, Zero Arrow Street (at Mass. Ave), Cambridge
Link out: Click here
Description: Yes, there will be mermaids. And French Horns. And, of course, Mariah Carey covers- are you really surprised?

Get your tickets early \'cause you don\'t want to miss this month\'s installation of Bent Wit Cabaret themed: Fantasy! This line-up is too juicy to ignore, so think happy thoughts, get dressed to the nines, and settle in to enjoy the radical explosion of our brains for your pleasure...

Hosted by: Mary Dolan and UnAmerika\'s Sweetheart Karin Webb
House Band: Elephant Tango Ensemble (including members of Goli and Humanwine)
Featuring the Genius of: Cameryn Moore the Phone Whore, Second Lines Social Aid and Pleasure Society Brass Band, Babes in Boinkland, Evan O\'Television, Sugar Dish, Femme Brulée, Lainey Schooltree, Ginger Rita, Rhino Preserves (a collaboration by french horn player Anne Howarth and Monkey House Dance\'s Karen Krolak), Puppets, and so much more...
Featured Drink: Smoke and Mirrors
Start Time: 20:00
Date: 2010-04-11

taking it to the next level

I read somewhere that you should never apologize on your blog for long gaps between postings. So, hey everyone! You all can suck my big pink overbooked dick! Woo-hoo!

The good news is, I am fully back in the swing of things. I was worried about re-entry after a month away, but everything was fine. Funnily enough, the first call on my first shift back was my extreme top. When the dispatcher told me it was going to be him, my heart sunk, because he always wants me to whimper and cry and beg, and come up with extreme torture to beg him for. Even though I am not actually getting my titties nailed to the wall—and that's not the most extreme that he gets—and I haven't come during one of his calls since that first time I got caught up in it and lost it, I still emerge on the other end of those 90-minute calls fucking wrung out and panting and sweaty, with a sore throat and aching head. At the end of it, all I could say was, well, everything else after this will be a snap.

My regular callers are certainly happy. My Saturday night lactation date was my second caller back, and when I said, "Wow, you got lucky! Tonight was my first night back on", he said, "I know, I marked it on my calender!"

So, yeah...

I don't quite know what to do with that kind of dedication, just like I don't know what to do with the almost-emotional welcome that my Tuesday-night trucker gave me. He was getting downright tender, letting me know how much he missed me (I believe it) and how he didn't even call the service that whole month (I don't believe it, but still, it's sweet of him to think to say it).

My trucker and I have been speaking for a half-hour once a week since... June 2009? Almost 10 months. Really? I mean... that's a committed phone bone right there. We're starting to reach the point—I can feel it in the way he half-says some things—where we're both wondering where this relationship is going. He wishes he could meet me, of course, which is different from my idea of the next level.

That would be the 45-minute level. Don't want to rush him into anything.

PHONE WHORE (world premiere)

Location: Fetish Fair Fleamarket, Providence, RI
Link out: Click here
Description: Is the world ready for Phone Whore? Let's find out, when Cameryn Moore's gritty slice-of-life drama about phone sex, fantasy, and life "on the lines" premieres on opening night of the Fetish Fair Fleamarket in Providence, RI. If you're already planning to be at the Flea, make this one-hour theatrical experience your first stop! You must have paid admission to the FFF to attend this event. Blackstone Room.

SPECIAL TALKBACK SESSION: come join Cameryn and Phone Whore director Lisa Dupre at 9:30 pm for discussion and feedback about this exciting new play!
Start Time: 18:45
Date: 2010-02-12
End Time: 19:45

Book Review: The Big Book of Sex Toys

Confession: I don't need sex toys to do my job. I have one little vibe that I keep on my chair-side table, in case someone wants to hear me "use" a vibrator. A dildo? Sounds like a blow job (fingers in the mouth) with extra slobber because I Am So Wet, Oh God. Butt plugs? Please. I just moan extra loud.

But my callers do use sex toys--when I tell them to, when they're turned on, when they just can't help themselves and want to get something nice and hard in their ass--so I feel that a phone whore is actually a good person to check out Tristan Taormino's newest book, the Big Book of Sex Toys .

First of all, the Big Book on Sex Toys isn't TOO big. I mean, at about 8 inches, it's bigger than average, but it's not going to kill you to use it, know what I mean? And although the title has a certain kiddie-book feel to it, none of the pictures are pop-up. (This always makes me sad about adult sex-ed books.) However, what the book lacks in physical dimensions is more than redeemed by the amount of useful and sexy information caught between these hard covers.

Taormino, whose sex-ed empire is vast and wonderful, really lays all of her experience on the table with this project. You can see it in the coverage--everything from basic vibes to jewel-studded buttplugs to floggers and some really logical sex furniture--and the wonderful sidebars (the problem with phthalates, can I get addicted to my vibrator).  One of the best features of the book is the Perfect Pairing, in which Taormino pulls out one of the recommended products and puts it with a position that best utilizes the features of that product. You get detailed tips for the physical logistics, precise directions for positioning the product, and a FUCKING HOT PHOTO TO GO WITH IT.

The writing is upbeat, educational but not dry (never dry, dry is bad!), and while BBST is obviously meant to be a shopper's guide to the goodies, with loads of pictures of some of the newest toys on the market, it's not a mindless catalog: Taormino and associates clearly gave these items a good whirl or two. The resource guide at the back helps readers find the well-lit, non-sticky-floor stores and the more reputable online sources.

I could ask for slightly more thorough referencing of the photos of sex toys, but I'm willing to overlook it because DID I MENTION THE HOT PHOTOS?! On a related note, I would like to have seen some same-sex action. Both in language and visual representation, BBST is patently meant for straight couples, which is, like, YAY for hot straight sex, and for a chapter about strap-ons that shows willing boy butt. And yet, my first encounter with the thigh harness was with another girl, and that was 15 years ago. I mean, let's give some props where they're due!

Overall, though, BBST is an excellent addition to the sexually curious bookshelf, with enough "for more reading" to give precocious kinksters a kick. I wish all of my callers would get their own copies. Then maybe the ones who bitch about how their wives aren't giving them any would get some action again, and the ones who use carrots would STOP USING CARROTS.

Friday f*ckbucket: the psychic version

After a few months out and about talking about phone sex at open mics, and a lot of time out on facebook, I think I'm developing some psychic abilities. I don't like to mention it—I mean, some people already fidget a little when I tell them I'm a PSO, a psychic one might be a little Too Much—but for days like today, with a post due, it comes in handy. Because instead of waiting for the actual virtual f*ckbucket to fill up (I think I'm switching over to another platform for next week's bucket, to make it easier to participate in), I can just reach my mind out to the PSYCHIC f*ckbucket and pick out the questions that I know people have been wondering. Don't worry, I'm not good enough yet to know who was thinking which question, so you will retain your anonymity. (Except you, Scotty.)

I wonder if she recognizes my voice?
Never fear! I have spoken with close to 500 different men over the past nine months on the lines, and that is just too many for my aural memory to keep up. Besides, your appearance distracts me from listening well, because in my mind's eye you're all 6'2", 190 pounds, and incredibly well hung. Men's actual physical variety is a little disorienting after that.

What's so special about her? I talk dirty with my boyfriend all the time!
What's special about me is I don't give it away like you do. I went out and found somebody who will pay me a decent percentage for doing it.

What's your office like?
My office has good padding on the two walls near the desk, insulated with actual pillows and leftover professional-grade sound-attenuating foam, plus a good thick rug on the floor. However, a couple of months ago I got roommates who didn't give a shit what kind of noise I was making up in my attic chambers, so I started to take calls from the easy chair in my room. I've got one of those old-style telephone end tables to hold my index card box, my dayplanner, and whatever non-phone-sex project I'm working on, and my laptop with the timer on it sits on the nearby dresser. I want to get a good ergonomic office chair and get back over to my office, though. Taking calls less than 8 feet away from the spot where I actually fuck might constitute blurry boundaries.

What's the nastiest word or phrase you've ever said in a phone call?
Leaky-assed, cum-guzzling man whore. Or the n-word. It's a toss-up.

Have you done all the things you talk about on the phone or in your stand-up?
Most. I mean, not move for move, but the general gist of things, yeah. As I say in my standard self-description on the phones, "I have been around the block a little bit." I might add, however, that first-hand experience is not a requirement to do phone sex. A well-read individual, or perhaps one who spends a lot of time on youporn, would be able to get started, if he or she also did some supplementary reading on the boards or forums for whatever kinks or fetishes they were lacking knowledge in.

Which calls do you really enjoy taking?
The ones where I get to be sarcastic. It's not so much a strain to stay in character.

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Stay tuned early next week for the next f*ckbucket, with a new survey platform, and PRIZES, too!

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