My twenty-one year old flatmate is becoming a whore. Most people turn to prostitution out of desperation. My flatmate, on the other hand, is doing it because she’s horny. Since I met Jane she’s always been into weird, fucked-up sex – stuff like getting fat hairy pervs she found on the internet to fuck her with household appliances. But now she’s taking her love of the perverse to the next level and becoming a full-on hooker. As of yet she hasn’t had full sex with any of her clients, but she’s done other stuff like humiliating rich men in public for cash, and acting as a professional girlfriend. Read more »
Posted on September 2nd, 2009 | 42 Comments
Tagged: diary, flatmate, prostitution, Sex
At this time of the year, it’s traditional for tabloid newspaper editors to send their pornographers around the schools of Britain to find blonde teenage twins happy to pout with their exam papers to celebrate the fact that they got six A-levels in things like gastronomical journalism and Halo 2 studies, and “might go to uni if the modeling doesn’t come together”. It’s nice therefore that there are still some women out there who don’t submit to the pressure to educate themselves. Read more »
Posted on August 24th, 2009 | 2 Comments
Tagged: A-levels, A-levels results, prostitution
I’m not entirely certain what made me suspect our new neighbours were prostitutes. My experience of the oldest profession is limited to a stroll through Amsterdam’s red light district, having a sneaky peak at the variety of gruesome wenches from the safety of the street, so it wasn’t exactly an informed guess. I suppose it was the stereotypically whorish way they dressed, the tawdry jewellery and heavy make-up, and the way they seemed to silently sneak in and out of the flat next door. I saw them very rarely and presumed they were quiet types, maybe students, but I soon began to notice a lot of nervous, ugly men of varying generations shuffle suspiciously up and down the close stairs. At first I tried to console myself by believing that the women at 4 / 2 were incredibly sociable and hosted parties every night of the week, but if they did they were the quietest parties I’d ever (not) heard. I desperately grasped at other unlikely possibilities – a book club maybe, a big family – but I knew it was hopeless. The flat next door was a brothel. Read more »
Posted on July 10th, 2009 | 4 Comments
Tagged: brothel, prostitution
