Here's your place to come talk about sex and love whenever you feel like it.
So there are many me's. I'm what you would call a shapeshifter. Corynne says that there is "Work Mandy," "Fun Mandy," "Intense Mandy," "Candy Mandy" -- and yeah, that's just the tip of the Mandy iceberg. That's usually why I get so stressed or depressed sometimes is that I feel split into a thousand different fragmented personalities. But there's one super-secret Mandy that I usually only show when I really want to go to the dark side of myself, am lying horny in bed, feel like something bleaker and more messed-up than just straight-up porn or the masturbation go-to-file-in-my-head.
And that's when I call a phone sex line and out comes: Sexy Baby-Voice Mandy.
I know. Ew, right?
Whatever. Stop being so judgmental. Sexuality is a wonderland!
I think as long as we're not hurting people it's healthy to look at evil creepy things in the world -- and at sexuality in particular. That stops people from, like, going on shooting sprees and abusing people in real life. You have to let out the darkness somehow right? Why not do it in a fun sex-positive way?
(Secret: If you put "sex-positive" in front of something really fucked up you can get away with anything! Sex-positive corpse-fucking. See what I did there?)
So when I call phone sex lines (haven't done it in a while, but it's usually free for women, and I think I have the number memorized, I believe it's like 312-332-TALK and then boom, presto, if you're a chick you can be in a red-light district talking to a horny cop in like 2 seconds flat), and I usually say my name is like "Mindy" or "Cinnamon" or "Bunny" or some shit. Never Mandy. Although I think I said "Mandy" once to see how fucked up that would feel. I usually talk in a breathy girlish whisper as if the only thing I know how to do is suck dick all day. When I was more troubled, I used to like to get men into territory where they might then get turned on, orgasm, and then be saddled with the burden of feeling kind of gross themselves. Like I would call them "daddy" right off the bat and say I wanted to fuck all their friends and that I was really high and I'd do anything they wanted. I liked to turn it into some weird kind of social experiment. Like the buzzers and torture at Stanford University. Yeah, so. I'm a really good time!
There was one time when I was living with a roommate when I was partying a lot and came home, and I think I might have straight up said into the phone sex line, "RAPE ME" really loud which I'm sure made my roommate feel super great about having picked such a sane, upstanding roommate, but who knows. Maybe I said, "Date me." I don't know. I was, like, blackout.
So yeah. I don't do Sexy Baby-Voice Mandy all that often any more. I mean, I'll masturbate to Courtney Stodden's Twitter feed like the next guy, but I'm also actively trying to like "put it out to the universe" that I'm ready for my super-healthy rad soulmate who I spend forever and ever with, so I figure calling sex phone lines and talking in some breathy exploit-a-teen voice on the regs isn't like the best plan.
Oh, and once when I had been doing coke all night and fucked like two different guys, I believe I actually said on the phone, "Ga-ga-goo-goo." Like in a sexy voice. I know. I'm fucking disgusting.
Anyway. I've been to enough strip clubs to see how massively successful a MOVE the Baby-Voice Slut strategy can be. You jump up and down with a teddy bear and are so innocent and all-American and exploitable and just adorbs. Just like the perfect blank palette to remind a man of his youth and apple pie and his first time and when those football dreams just might pan out.
So do you think I should just become Perma-Infantalization Mandy? I mean, Paris Hilton doesn't really talk like that. Jackie O didn't really talk like that. Many famous comic actresses don't really talk like that. And they are mad successful. Maybe it's time for me to go all mad baby-voice bimbo up in this piece. I might walk into every party and could be like, "Hi, I'm Mandy. Ga-ga-goo-goo," and then open up my purse and stare with really wide semi-earnest, half-dead eyes as the men just totally filled it up with cash.
Although I guess that's just being a prostitute? A Baby-Voice-Prosti?
Anyway. Corynne absolutely thinks the fake-baby-girl-voice is gross. But whatever. Emily thinks Corynne talks in a baby voice, so what does she know?
[Oh and Emily also wants you to know: "Emily believes in women making their own choices." And Corynne wants you to know: "I don't think women should be, like, legally banned from speaking in a baby voice."]
At the end of the day, honestly, my pride as a smart terrifying chick usually wins out, and I want to use the powers of my intelligence rather than use the powers of my sexuality -- and that very particular brand: fucked-up taboo sexuality (the hottest kind of all, right?).
But what do you think, xoJane? Is infantalization always an evil thing? Should I go as a sexy baby for Halloween this year? Did you know I'm almost 37? Do you ever talk like a BVS? Who's prettier, me or Paris Hilton? (If you say, Paris I will cut you.)
Find Mandy long-form at http://tinyurl.com/stadtmiller.