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Wrapping up a weekend in Denver

All it takes is one weekend in the big city to remind me life can sometimes be a little tame in this valley.I spent last weekend in Denver at the Colorado Press Association convention. Not so controversial, unless you consider podcasting and blogging two wild ‘n’ crazy topics.The juicy talk around town centered on the Sex and So Much More Show at the Colorado Convention Center. The racy convention was plugged as “an upscale consumer trade show” featuring adult film star appearances, sex seminars, product exhibitors and burlesque routines.All under one roof.That’s a far different scene than I’ve seen in my day – a particular section of Pendleton Pike on Indianapolis’ east side comes to mind. They don’t call the Harem House strip club the Scarem House for nothin’.Of course, I didn’t even get the chance to see what all the hype was about over the weekend. Skipping the writing/reporting workshop for the “Newbie’s Guide to Swinging” seminar probably isn’t the smartest career move I could make.And I’m pretty sure learning mummification techniques with Saran Wrap from Rubberella the Fetish Queen isn’t going to score me that raise I’m promised.Now that’s some serious embedded journalism.The closest I’ve come to using plastic wrap outside of covering deviled eggs at Thanksgiving was a short-lived Mardi Gras costume.A couple of years ago, I had the big idea of creating a strapless Saran Wrap original for a Mardi Gras party at Dos Gringos. I figured, ‘What the hey? It’s Mardi Gras, it’s Carbondale, whatever goes.”Funny what crosses a girl’s mind in the food storage aisle of the grocery store. The Reynolds Wrap possibilities are endless. And wax paper – I won’t even go there.I arrived home from City Market that Saturday evening armed with two giant rolls of plastic wrap and a positive attitude. I was ready to suck in my stomach and get packaged as tight as an Eckrich smoked sausage.Little did I know how many layers it takes to cover one’s body in plastic wrap, even when wearing only undergarments. I spun around so many times, I felt as if I had just stumbled off the Tea Cups ride at Disney World.Worse yet, I really had to go to the bathroom.Really, really bad.Unfortunately, I did not take into account that wearing a Saran Wrap dress does not allow for a lot of breathing room. Or going-to-the-bathroom room.My boyfriend at the time was also quick to point out that no matter how many layers we added, there was still a little too much for all to see from the back end.Wearing a Saran Wrap dress – especially clear – isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.Luckily we had a pair of scissors on hand to cut me out of the thing. Talk about trust.There’s something to say about wearing body wrap like that, though. I sweated more than I had in months.And I learned my lesson about wearing material better fit for food. Just because something keeps processed meat fresh doesn’t mean you should wear it.Unless, of course, you’re Rubberella.April E. Clark was wondering why the women at the dance club she went to Saturday night in Denver were hardly dressed. Then she heard the club was the “official after-party” of the Sex and So Much More Show.


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