Cam – Ft McMurray's Homepage

Kim Kardashian West and Kanye West attended the NBA All-Star game on Sunday (February 16) and had a slightly awkward moment on the jumbotron. When cameras pointed to Kim in the audience, she smiled and blew a kiss—looking as chic as ever—but then things turned hilariously cringe-y when she went to kiss Kanye. The rapper clearly didn’t notice Kim was going in for a smooch because he just sat next to her, totally expression-less. It’s truly so, so good.

See it for yourself in the Twitter video, below:

People on Twitter are, naturally, living for this moment. Below, just a few reactions:

Of course, you shouldn’t read too much into this. It’s clear Kanye wasn’t aware Kim was trying to kiss him. If he was, things probably would’ve panned out differently. Some fans pointed out that, despite being such an open couple, Kim Kardashian West and Kanye West don’t really do much PDA in the traditional sense.

“I don’t think he was paying attention lol y’all make something out of anything,” one person tweeted. Another wrote, “He’s obsessed with her. I’m sure he wasn’t paying attention lol.”

Kim’s had a string of viral moments lately. Earlier in February, the internet went bananas over her children’s playroom, which includes a mini-supermarket and concert stage.

“You guys always say my house is so minimal—well, you guys haven’t seen my playroom,” she said on Instagram Story before giving a tour of the space. And in January, people were just as infatuated with Kim’s fridge, which is walk-in. “I saw a bunch of comments from people wondering what I feed my four children,” she wrote in an Instagram Stories caption. “And since you guys are dying to know, here a little peak [sic] inside our main fridge filled with lots of fruits and veggies!”

It’s only a matter of time before the next viral Kardashian moment comes rolling in.

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For two years, my days looked something like this: sleep late, buy props, clean my room, get online, do my show, get naked. This was my life as a cam girl.

I had always been fascinated by sex work. I was sexual. I was seductive. I was the girl who took her clothes off at parties. I was the girl who wanted to be wanted. I was the girl who needed attention—sexual attention—all the time. It would have shocked anyone who knew me to know that I never actually got any pleasure from sex. It was the control I craved—the sex at the end felt obligatory. The truth was, in my teens and early twenties, I didn’t know how to experience pleasure. I liked everything around sex but I didn’t enjoy sex itself. It was difficult to reconcile—so for years, I didn’t.

Sex work seemed like an enticing and empowering idea—a way to be desired so much men would pay me for my company and worship my sexuality in a transaction where my pleasure was irrelevant. The perfect job.

Only one problem: I had no idea how or where to get started. Then I learned about sugar daddies— found one on a sugar daddy dating website. We had a lot of fun together, but ultimately, I wanted more from my career in sex work. One night, I was talking to him about the fact that I wanted to try being a stripper. “Have you heard of cam girls?” he asked. I hadn’t.

Being a cam girl meant many different things, I soon discovered. Many cam girls perform sex acts and erotic activities via webcams for money. Many also paint, sing, make art, build friendships and communities, emotionally support clients, and more. I fell in love with what I saw these performers doing, so I made a profile on an upscale subscription-based cam site, built a cam identity, and signed on. I was pumped.

The first site I worked on had a culture based on privates—where viewers paid by the minute for my time. During privates, viewers made specific requests of me, which I pressured myself to comply with, for fear of them ending the private show. I felt like I’d felt almost every time I’d had sex IRL—like I was just going along with what they wanted because I was pressured into it either by the other person, or by society, or by myself. In all of those situations, I told myself I had seduced them, egro I needed to have sex with them. Now, I was being paid—I owed the viewers.

This was not the empowering sex work I had pictured but I wasn’t ready to give up on camming yet. I wanted to feel more agency over my sexuality, so I joined a different cam site. This one was free and based on “tips” for various acts: Tip to set the music in my room. Tip to dim the lights. Tip to tell a joke or sing a song. Tip to show my breasts. Tip to have me touch them. Tip to bring out a sex toy. Tip to use it. I created the menu and set the prices.

Every night I performed for my webcam, putting on quirky shows, trying out an arsenal of sex toys, chatting with the viewers in my room, building a community of regulars. Within months, I became ranked among the top 100 cam girls on the site.

The author during her camgirl days.

Courtesy of Isa Mazzei

This is what I had been looking for. Camming was this structure where I not only set boundaries but I enforced them. Just like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, I said who, I said when, I said how much. It gave me a sense of value of my body and more importantly, camming gave me control over that value in a way that was really powerful. It was a safe space to exist not only as a sex worker but as a sexual person.

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