Jet Noir Weekly’s 2015 In Review

Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you for letting me by myself. The weight of that phrase never meant too much until I got on stage and an audience accepted/enjoyed what I created. This brand of gratitude applies to burlesque stages and the world stage of the internets. This blog has traveled around the globe with a significant base of readers in Germany and the UK!  For all of the Number Nerds out there, here are some stats in the form of an annual report from WordPress.com for this blog (in infographic format). Enjoy! To see it all… Click here! CLICK HERE! Click here! CLICK HERE! Click here! CLICK HERE! Click here! CLICK HERE!

Here are my two favorite oddball/ironic stats: 1.) The number 2 referring site was Facebook. Ha! 2.) A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 3,400 times in 2015. If it were a cable car, it would take about 57 trips to carry that many people.

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TWO MORE (2015) SHOWS

Tonight, join me for one of my last two performances of 2015. At the DNA Lounge, for the Monday Night Hubba Hubba Revue, I’ll be bringing quite the spectacle to the stage! You’ll have to see it to believe it!

Monday, Dec. 28th — at MONDAY NIGHT HUBBA!

GOT TICKETS?

THE HOLIDAYS AIN’T OVER ‘til we say they’re over! It’s the FINAL Monday Night Hubba of 2015, and we’ve got special guests, local lovelies, astonishing skills & enough top-shelf BURLESQUE to pop your champagne cork! COME SEE… !

Sailor St. Claire (Seattle, WA)!
Jet Noir!
Trixie Fou Laurent!
(Juggler) Bri Crabtree!
The Mermaid Atlantis!
Lookie Lulu!
& back in the Bay Area, the beautiful Sugar Lee!

hosted by Alexa Von Kickinface & Maggie Motorboat

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$12 Reserved Seating (LIMITED! Get ’em ONLINE now!)
$7 General Admission

TICKETS! http://www.dnalounge.com/calendar/2015/12-28d.html

Doors 9PM — Show 10PM
Hubba Hubba Revue’s

MONDAY NIGHT HUBBA is *18 & Up!*
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*FREE ADMISSION* to Death Guild​ after the show! (@11:30PM)

PARKING — public parking is available at the Costco parking lot across the street from DNA Lounge, at the corner of 11th & Harrison. (Entrance is on 11th Street.)

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ABOVE DNA (at DNA Lounge​)
375 Eleventh Street, @ Harrison
San Francisco, CA

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Become a Hubba Hubba Revue PATRON of the sexy ARTS! Help support your local live entertainment!

www.patreon.com/hubbahubbarevue

Be a Hubb! Join the our Facebook Army!

https://www.facebook.com/groups/hubbahubbarevue/

Get Hubba Twitter Updates from Laika Fox!

@hubbahubbarevue

www.hubbarevue.com

www.dnalounge.com

Better Than Your Company’s Holiday Party

Are you searching for something to do after your company’s holiday party? Bring some of the cool kids to watch some fanciful Burlesque teasings. Still don’t have plans for NYE yet? Tickets are almost sold out for the Uptown’s re-opening. Check the link below and I hope to see your face in an audience near me soon.

Upcoming Burlesque Performances

Monday, 12/21 @ DNA Lounge (Upstairs)
Monday, 12/28 @ DNA Lounge (Upstairs)
Thursday, 12/31 @ The Uptown
FIN HHR NYE 2015 SIDE 2
Friday, 1/8 @ The Box Factory
Friday, 1/22 @ Beatbox

Fitness Classes at Studiomix in San Francisco

Mondays:
Studio Road Ride @ 5:45PM
Tuesdays:
TRX Bodyweight Burn @ 7:15PM
Wednesdays:
Studio Road Ride @ 6:15AM
Tabata Cross @ 5:45PM
Studio Road Ride @ 7:00PM [Beginning in January]
Cross Mix @ 8:00PM
Fridays:
Studio Road Ride @ 6:15AM
Tabata Cross @ 8:30AM

(Emotionally) Putting Out

Recently, a client explained that she’d decided to *big gulp + deep breath* “put herself out there” in regards to her dating life. Immediately I began to wonder, “WTF does that mean for her?” Hell, what would that mean for someone like me?!? In the age of Uber drop-offs, Tinder hook-ups, and Facebook break-ups, what does it mean for a woman to “put herself out there?” Well, I’ve never been a woman and I’m not going to front as if I have the slightest clue what it feels like to be a single female diving into the deep end of the dating pool, especially within the Me Generation that has a reputation for breaking up via text message. *shakes fist* “These damned, kids!” No. I’ll leave that blog post to someone else to write. I do know what it’s like to be a* Black/Heterosexual/Polyamorous/Male that’s been in the shallow end of the dating pool, wading towards infinity.

*It’s worth mentioning… Categories may shape my experience, but they do not define me as a human being. We all have more dimensions than any several categories.

As a [see above for a refresher on some categories provided to me by society] human, the concept of putting myself out there is interesting. The societal assumption** is that the male is supposed to approach the female in the courting process. “Hey girl! Hit me off with those digits!” “Hey girl! Do you come here often? Let’s go to my place and see if you cum there often!” Well, let’s all be glad that I’ve never been keen on the whole “approach some strange woman in a bar and try to take her home” thing. I’d be getting slapped on a regular basis! Yeah, not my thing. But, wait! If I’m not the Mack of Frama-Lama-Ding-A-Ling, holl’in mo’ game than a referee, then how am I supposed to put myself out there!?

**It’s worth mentioning… That some may view my musings as heteronormative. I don’t think (nor have I ever thought) that heterosexuality is the “normal or preferred sexual orientation.” However, I am heterosexual and I write from my own worldview. My good intention is not to offend. But, we all know what they say about paving the road to hell.

My understanding of the phrase means to let the world know that I’m available and interested in dating and/or pursuing a relationship. Since I’m Polyamorous, I’m currently courting a few people. But, I’ve decided to put myself out there to find a Primary Partner. Two recent conversations helped me to come to this decision.

When my father took ill a few thousand miles away my brother was there to help my mom deal with his deteriorating health. My brother is a single father and he talked about how difficult it is to balance that with watching the slow decline of our Pop. He mentioned how he thought it would be easier to deal with such challenges if he were married. Before he began to explain what he meant, I was picking up what he was putting down. We spoke in agreement about the luxury of a partner that could help with the emotional weight of life. [Update: This happened a few months ago. Pop is doing well and still talkin’ shit. The family and I agreed that it didn’t really make sense for me to come home. So, I call him once a week just to send some love through the phone.]

In a separate incident, not so far away, I was humbled by a conversation with a regular in one of my [Group Exercise] classes. After the class ended, a man walked up to me and introduced himself by name [we’ll call him Jeff]. I found the introduction odd because I had seen Jeff in my class dozens of times. At the time of this odd introduction, it did occur to me that I hadn’t seen him over the past month or so. The introduction got stranger when he asked for my name. Because I know how horrible I am at remembering names, I conceded and we shook hands as if it were a first time meeting. Jeff went on to explain that he had been in a car accident and lost some of his memory. He said, “My wife tells me that I used to come to this class often.” My jaw dropped and I’m sure that I did a poor job of hiding the change in facial expression. The re-introduction made sense and it was an emotional reality check for me. We’ve all heard the gentle reminder to be kind to people because we don’t know what someone’s going through.

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It’s a completely different feeling when you’re faced with the experience of learning what someone else is enduring. At that point, it’s no longer some cliché from a screen, it’s very real. I found myself playing the macabre version of what if after that encounter. What if I lost my memory? Who would help me put the pieces back together? Would I have to give myself a series of tattoos as mementos? It would be nice if I had a wife or a partner to help me with the emotional weight of recovery.

I’ve been adamantly independent since I left home at 18. I’ve certainly had plenty of help along the way. [For all of the friends and lovers reading this that have washed a dish, fed a cat, or just listened to me vent without interruption, you know who you are and I perpetually thank you.] But, with such determined independence I’ve grown accustomed to doing everything by/for myself. The two aforementioned scenarios have acted as stark reminders that, despite preparation, I’m not meant to bear certain types of emotional weight alone. So, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I started using the P[artner]-word again. With this post and two new online dating profiles, I’m officially out there, World!

It’s worth mentioning… I still don’t know WTF “out there” means. I was never hiding or hidden. I’ve never rejected the notion of a Primary Partner. I have certainly had my “Fuck-That-Shit!” moments of angst after a former Partner told me that she’d wait for someone better to come along (that’s not an exaggeration, that’s what she confirmed when I called her out.) But, I’ve always accepted love in my life in the spirit of friendship, aroused physical connections, or both. Now, I’m just showing a profile picture and writing about myself and my ideal her as if I’m shopping on Amazon. [Yes, it feels that weird to me!] So, if you see me on OKC or PolyMatchMaker.com, now you know why. I’m seeking a Polyamorous friend that will be there for me in more ways than I can possibly list. I’ll know her when I meet her.

Special Note: The last time that I had a dating profile was 2010 and I swore that I’d rather stab my eye out with a rusty metal dildo than ever fill out another one of those goddamned “this is why you should pick me” biographies. In my 24 hours back in this online dating world, I’ve noticed that women still do three silly things with their profile pictures. [Before anyone tries to derail this special note, I’m aware that men do the same or worse shit with their profile pics. But, I’m not searching for them, so write your own post about the dumb ass Bro photos. You can also read this post to understand why you will continue to receive dick pics.] 1.) Group Photos. I don’t know what you look like well enough to know which one is you. Furthermore, why is that your default pic? 2.) Faux Diversity Photos. That picture with your one Black friend doesn’t say anything about the diversity in your circle. That picture with the orphans from your trip to Africa also feels shoehorned. 3.) Self-objectification Photos. I understand that your profile states that you’re just here for casual encounters. But, when all of your pics are of your ass or cleavage (with no face) I’m dumbfounded. WTF!?

Back in Parochial school we sang the hymn, “No Man Is An Island” and I’ve often tried to remind my clients that accepting support and love is a sign of intelligence and strength. Strength is a choice and I’ve made the choice to accept the support and love of a partner because I’m following my own advice.

The Art of Making Love and Why You Should Never Feel “Horny”

When was the last time that you made sweet sweet love? After reading that question you may be wearing a grimace or a smile. I hope that it’s the latter. I grew up hearing the expression (or some variation of) making love. The expression never needed explanation, the context always gave it away. It’s been a long time and many miles since I’ve lived in Detroit and embraced the ubiquitous sounds of Soul, Rhythm, and Blues music. It seemed like every song was requesting or expressing joy for sweet love making. As music changed over the years, singers have used the expression less and less. Now, they just want to fuck and they make no effort to soften their lyrical request with a euphemism. *shakes fist* “These kids today…

I’ve always found myself concerned with semantics and etymology. So much so that the idea of making love was a stupid concept to me because of my literal and (at times) pedantic mind. It’s challenging to find two people that agree on the definition of love. How can you make something which two people can’t agree on? That sounds like a vegan and a carnivore making dinner together (talk about a comedy of errors). As years have passed and the concept and conversations around love making have become antiquated, I made a conscious decision to bring it back with new purpose. I refer to making sweet love all of the time. I have a t-shirt that reads, “Make. Sweet. Love.”

Recently, a friend expressed her thoughts on the phrase that she found to be cringe-worthy. I explained my tongue-in-cheek take on the phrase and I wanted to share my take with all of you. There are many ways to make love and you don’t have to be naked to make it happen. For all of the optimists reading this, you already know that there’s a lot of love in the world. For all of the self-proclaimed “realists” reading this, you may be missing out on the love around you because you happen to see the shit first. I want to challenge you realists to change your focus by making love. A smile is a display of love. If you’ve ever smiled at a stranger and accepted their smile in return, you’ve made love… with a stranger… in full view of the public eye. Your smile didn’t make them smile, but you were the catalyst for their display of love. Have you ever hugged a friend that really needed that hug? Have you felt a body release tension and breathe a bit easier as you gave a tight squeeze? When a fellow human dismantles their emotional wall due to the simple physical contact of a hug, that’s a display of love. If you’re gifted with enough empathy to recognize when someone needs a hug, check in and ask permission* to land a tight hug and make love.

*It’s worth mentioning… that consent is sexy. When you hug someone, it’s easy to tell through their body language if that person welcomes that hug or not. Instead of allowing an intended display of affection to be misunderstood, try asking first. “May I hug you?” Be prepared for any answer, including an abrupt “no.” Just because you were kind enough to ask doesn’t mean that person owes you a positive response. If anything, be grateful that you asked first, in the event of an abrupt “no.”

“Jet, does that mean that I’m making love to my Aunt Bertha when we hug!?” No. Don’t be a dumbass and don’t make this weird. When you connect with strangers, friends, and lovers in an exchange that generates pleasure, you’re making love. Do you remember that time that your friend was on the verge and your thoughtful hand on their back gave permission to release and cry it out? That’s love and you helped to make it happen. I’ve been an empath for as long as I can remember. In one of my first Bartending jobs, I recall this exchange:
Two women sat at a Cocktail table. One of them left for the restroom. The other sat alone and I noticed a specific look in her eyes.
Me: Are you okay?
She: I’m fine, we don’t need anything else.
Me: I wasn’t talking about food or drinks. You look sad, are you okay?
She: *tears began streaming down her face* How did you know?
Me: I was just checking in. *laid a hand on her shoulder*

I’m grateful for that exchange of love. I’m grateful that I could make it happen. I once saw a young couple on the train and he was so in love with her that he didn’t know what to do with himself. It wasn’t that insecure, possessive type of bullshit that we’re used to seeing. No. This brother was enamored with her. He kept his arm around her and whispered softly as he nuzzled the nape of her neck. His smile never faded and she was glowing with a radiating peace from within. They were making love during the entire train ride and sex had nothing to do with, they were deepening their bond. I’m grateful that I had a chance to witness it.

So, yes, you read it all right. I’m suggesting that you reference making love in the literal sense. Go out and make some love with your fellow human. Special note to the Bros, from Kanye West. “You can still love your man and be manly, dog!” Try hugging without the arm in between. Special note to the conservatives, when no one’s around you’re allowed to feel aroused at the thought of making love and sexy sex.

Arousal is about biology, not mythology. What I mean to say is that we should all, including the conservatives, release/delete the term horny from the modern lexicon. Horny is an informal word that makes reference to horns… as in the Devil’s horns. Yes, every time you refer to yourself as horny, you’re equating sexual arousal to a devilish feeling. There’s nothing devilish about carnal knowledge of self. “The Devil made me do it!” Bullshit. Change your language and challenge yourself to never feel horny again. The next time you feel that special change in your physiology, take a deep breath and acknowledge, with the intonation of gratitude, “I am aroused.” Congratulations, you can still feel. With the same sentiment of gratitude, think about how you’d like to satiate your desires. “I’m aroused and I’d like to [fill in the blank] in order to explore my pleasure.” Remember friends, satiating sex is sexier than sedentary sex. [Say that three times fast!] Get active and work your body on somebody or work your body by yourself. May you never be horny, may you be aware of your body such that you’re often aroused. I hope that you recognize the empowering difference in the latter over the former. Make love happen at home, make love happen around town. The next time someone asks you how you’re doing, tell them, “My love is ubiquitous. How are you?”

Confession: I’m often aroused by the end of a Burlesque show. It’s not due to my four minutes on stage. It’s because I have some damned sexy and very talented friends. Come out and watch us strip and tease for you. Here are some upcoming Burlesque performances.

Friday, 12/11 @ DNA Lounge (Main Stage)

Dec Side 2 (small)

Monday, 12/21 @ DNA Lounge (Upstairs)
Monday, 12/28 @ DNA Lounge (Upstairs)
Thursday, 12/31 @ The Uptown
FIN HHR NYE 2015 SIDE 2
Friday, 1/8 @ Beatbox
Friday, 1/22 @ Beatbox

Fitness Classes at Studiomix in San Francisco

Mondays:
Studio Road Ride @ 5:45PM
Tuesdays:
TRX Bodyweight Burn @ 7:15PM
Wednesdays:
Studio Road Ride @ 6:15AM
Tabata Cross @ 5:45PM
Cross Mix @ 8:00PM
Fridays:
Studio Road Ride @ 6:15AM
Tabata Cross @ 8:30AM