Apache Dancer


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I walked into work this morning, and the dearest, sweetest, most Christian lady I work with, informed me that I look like a Apache Dancer.

Seeing the rather quizzical look on my face and hearing me ask if there were unseen feathers on my outfit, or even war paint, she explained that they are some sort of exotic dancer from the sixties. In her eyes, a great compliment.

Apparently, they wear black and white striped shirts, lots of red lipstick, black chokers and fishnets. I am lacking the fishnets and red lipstick, but they have made an appearance before.

Upon Googling it I found the description of the typical Apache dance "The plot is of a French underworld character (the Apache; possibly a pimp in this case) asking his woman (possibly a prostitute) for money. She refuses, he slaps her around for awhile, and eventually drags her into a dance--curiously enough, a waltz rather than a tango."


Nice. Maybe I should look into new career options and just skip college as a whole?


2 Responses to “Apache Dancer”

  1. Anonymous Anonymous 

    If you request it, your university will probably offer it as a major next year. Anything to keep that tuition gravy train moving.

  2. Blogger Jon 

    fishnets and red liptsick?

    How can you go wrong!

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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