Another night at work. It’s amazing how things that appear so hedonistic at first glance than become so routine and possibly even banal at points when you peer below the surface.

If it wasn’t for the fact that it’s the Cathouse that I frequent most, I’d probably have given up the whole thing a long time ago. There’s nowhere quite like it. I think even if I won the lottery I’d carry on working there. It’s not really the job itself that can wear you down, but more the reliance on the job for financial reasons.

Maybe if we were all freed from the strains and ties to currency we would enjoy our work more, no matter what job we do. I’m sure there’s some sort of social theory lurking in there somewhere.

Oh, and spot the difference between the quality of these pics and the ones in the previous post with the GF1. It’s like night and day.


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