I have a new friend who found my stupid escorting mugshot on a site to do with big tits.
The biggest tit of all was me, whom in my wise drunken splendour at his flat one night I actually showed him my friend's website......
Then naturally, one click here, one click there..... Leads you to my jukebox of sin. The House Of Fun. The House of The Rising Sun.....
What an idiot I am at times, ey?
Normally I don't really care about new friends knowing about my exotic and tropical persuits, but this time it just felt different and slightly disappointing. I quite liked having a secret life to be honest. I mean - who would ever guess?? Now in his mind I will possibly ONLY ever be a whore and not quite the woman he met a few months back in the local. His opinion will be tainted, regardless of what he said to me last week, and why not I suppose?
Plus, when people know, they ask you ALL the same questions about it, and to be honest it just gets a bit tiresome answering them....
"So how old is the oldest man you ever went with?"
"You must see some right nutters?"
"What kind of things do you actually do?"
"Do you like it?"
"What's the wierdest thing you have ever done?"
etc
etc
etc.
Yeah yeah, so I understand the fact that it is intriguing. I get it, OK? The biggest intrigue of all is NOT knowing.... I think so anyway.
With so much in this industry exploited by imaginationless women with anything and everything on show, I am here, waving the flag for intrigue, the what if's and subtleties. Let's keep the dirty talk for the bedroom, I say.
What say you?
Isn't knowing an escort on FHM's top ten things to do in your life?
In goodfellas, Henry Hill once poetically said "The way I saw it, everybody takes a beating sometime". I like to view life this way. Makes you take things less personally.
Being an escort sometimes feels like you are made out of pink fluffy rubber. You need to develop a real thick skin early on, and not take things too seriously, preferably without becomming too twisted and bitter about human kind, like an Ood.
It's a balancing act worthy of art.
I have met the most frightening examples of working girls where the distrust, years of hatred towards men and general lack of empathy for women are literally pinching their faces, contorting them into this frowning, agonised and wretched old hag, more suited to lurking in the shadows of a darkened wood, and wistfully offering poisened apples, sweets and Maccy D's to timid children, rather than frolicking, playfully in a sweet smelling boudoir....
I don't believe in karma as this belief system is normally propaganda wank fodder for the white middle classes who are about as spiritual or as pleasant as a dog's maingy bollock. It's not the Buddhists who have inherited their relligion culturally that I hate - noo, it's the shallow and emotionally retarded middle class self absorbed twats who feel guilty and empty because all they really want is a new frock and a better car.
Sometimes these people call themselves "spiritual"
I call them cunts.
I digress.
So this week. On my phone. I have had all manner of life, pond life and the downright bizarre....
"Tonight, live from a Nokia mobile twat! We have Strictly Cum Timewasters!"
Crikey. And Christ on a bike!
Hi Hannah. Hi there. Oooh, you sound nice. Thanks. I am. Lovely..... Er. Can I help you? Yes. Erm. I want to find out ALL about you. What do you want to know? Specifically? Well. My mate gave me your number. He said he came to see you and had a great time. Did he? Yes. Why not ask him then? If he had SUCH a great time, surely there is not much else one can tell you, is there? How much is it? Ask your mate. Oh Ok. What do you do? Ask your mate.
Hello Hannah. How are you? Are you available this weekend? Yes I am! How are you doing? What time or days suits you? Well, I would love an overnight with you this Friday. Cool. You called me from a with held number though.... Yes yes I know. Sorry. I am calling from 'work'. Ok that's fair do's. What do I need to do to confirm? You need to give me your mobile number so I know you aren't a timewaster.... Hangup.
Who's this? Sorry? Who's this? You tell me. You called me? Er. oh yeah do you like do sex and stuff?
I have been trying to call you ALL day! Hi Hannah my name is John. Hi there John. How are you? Fine thanks! Hannah, I want to see you next week in Reading. Are you free on Friday at 2? I should imagine so. How much is it? How long are you coming for? An hour? That's £150 my dear. WHAT? That's a lot of money innit? I suppose. Can you do it for £80? WHAT? You aren't on ebay now, mate. This is how much it is. Don't try and haggle with me. This is my body you're talking about... I can get a Russian stunner for £80 all night. Well you jog on and fill your boots then. I want you though. I want Daniel Craig too.... You aren't the type of 'gent' I like to see. Sorry. Can you do it cheaper? BYE.
With phone call after phone call like the above ones, you can see how easy it is for any Snow White to transform rapidly into a contorted, men hating hag, can't you?
There is a secret to coping with this madness though.
There is salvation - a solution.
Music.
I mean. HOW can you take those idiots seriously or give them brainspace when you listen to this:
Something about this is very erotic, especially the lyrics..... Thom Yorke is such an amazing songwriter, I can't think of anything of his I dislike to be honest....
Hope you love it too:
Skip Divided
I'm in a skip divided malfunction I flap around and dive bomb Frantically around your light Enveloped in a sad distraction I got your voice repeating endlessly Could you guide me in? Could you smother me?
I swoop around your head But I never hit I'm blinded by your daylight Electric veins pass through me I thought there was this big connection I only got my name I only got the situation I just need a number and location Without appropriate papers or permissions I'm known to bite in tight situations And I head into your french windows I thought there was a big connection I only got my name I only got my situation I just need my number and location
And my mum keeps telling me Hey hey hey hey hey hey The devil may Hey hey hey hey hey hey You are a fool [x2] For sticking round [x2] Yeah you are a fool [x2] For sticking round [x2] I tried every trick in the book I tried to look and knew Every trick in the book But how come I look?
No more common dress or elliptical caress Don't look into your eyes cause I'm desperately in love In love When you walk in the room everything disappears When you walk in the room it's a terrible mess When you walk in the room I start to melt When you walk in the room I follow you round Like a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a lapdog I'm your lapdog, yeah I just got a number and location I just need my number and location