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Seriously

Posted: August 30, 2010 in Uncategorized
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Really? Really!?

Some 8 or 9 months ago, the online hooker/hobbyist world exploded with the revelation that one of the most high-profile “escorts” was (and is) a fake. A poser, a pretender, a liar and a content thief.

Many real sex workers wrote at length about it. Sex worker / sex positive publications both physical and virtual dissected the story. Real, verifiable, working strippers, escorts, camgirls and sex bloggers/educators contributed their points of view about this lying, thieving wannabe and her unabashed attempts at gaining legitimacy for herself based on the efforts (and skin) of others.

I chimed in on the controversy, both here on my own blog, and by adding comments to others. My particular perspective is that her deception was a widely know, badly kept secret among many hobbyists and message board owners.

Months have passed now, and I don’t really relish reliving that tawdry episode, and I don’t particularly care to add to her martyr complex. But recent events underscore the fact that, far from being shamed into obscurity by the harsh light of revelation, this deceiver, this con artist, this pathological liar showing a marked lack of even the most basic shame and decency, continues to prevaricate, pontificate and present herself as a real escort, a real sex educator, a real… person. Even after being unmasked, exposed as a content thief, she still has followers who believe her rather than their own senses. Apparently, there are a fuckload of people not possessed of the ability to use the Google. Then again, there are still people who’ll vote Republican.

Like I said, I don’t want to add to her legitimacy by addressing her directly. It’s her followers that this is addressed to.

Let this serve as notice. No matter how much I like you, no matter how much I enjoy reading your blogs or your Twitters. If you persist in retweeting the tripe from that lying phony, I will un-follow you. I know, that’s not much of a loss. I don’t have thousands of followers, I don’t command an army of sycophants. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. I’d rather not see that cunt in my Twitter stream. And if it means I don’t get to enjoy your sparkling wit & wisdom, so be it.

P.S. The same caveat applies if you seriously retweet Sarah Palin.

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If they could see me now.

Clueless

Just last week, unannounced, right out of nowhere, my ‘trust’ level went up a notch on one of the local “hobbyist” message boards. You know the one I mean. The one that pretends its really just a social networking site, not a meet up site for hookers & johns. The one that thinks they’ve got the most trustworthy whoremongers in town, when in fact, they’re just the cheapest. The one where (by conservative estimates) somewhere around 30% of the “hobbyists” are undercover cops.

I say it was unannounced, unexpected, because I haven’t done anything recently to warrant a change in level, much less an upward tick. I haven’t done any of the hobby-positive things on which they claim to base their rankings. I haven’t written any new reviews there. I haven’t ‘exchanged trust’ with anyone. I haven’t been a misogynist dillhole. Oh wait, that last one is just an unwritten rule.

I couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly, thinking if they only knew that the guy they just moved up a level is the guy writing this site, maybe they wouldn’t have been so free with their ‘trust.’ Hell, maybe they dont know about my little blog here. Nah, as obsessively as they check their stats, they’ve seen the incoming clicks from here. They’ve read it. They’ve even commented here. Yeah, i can see where my hits are coming from, too.
But then I remembered the news from last week. The confession, the guilty plea, the upcoming sentencing. And I realized that Some Guy writing a blog that’s often critical of their standards, practices and predilections pales in comparison to the guy doing time.
And they still trust him. Plenty.

Afternoon delight

Rawrrrrr...!

I met her, as these things so often happen, in an online forum. One of those I now regularly denigrate as dens of stupidity, misogyny and stupidity.

She was one of the first who caught my attention shortly after I joined my local “He-Man Hooker Haters Club” message board. I hadn’t set out specifically looking for her, or indeed someone much like her. I now think that’s largely because I didn’t know someone like her existed. And if she did exist, it never occurred to me that I’d find her on a hooker forum. I was looking for the typical. The usual. The no entanglement, no conversation, no expectations kinda girl.
But, I found her instead.
She was one of the first to welcome me to the board and take an interest in what I had to say. To this day, I don’t really know what it was about me that drew her to me. I have no doubts at all about what drew me in to her.
She was (and still is) hot, shapely, nasty and classy. Those long legs, that long hair, those massive magical tits. She had curves where women are supposed to have curves. She had brains where most men lack. And really, who doesn’t like a redhead?
We spent hours, days, weeks, months chatting online. We talked about art, history, literature, politics, music. And sex. We bonded over our mutual interests. I try to play things close to the vest. I try not to reveal too much of my real persona online. As I’ve said before, I think that way lies ruination. But surely, I can’t be the only whoremonger with an interest in obscure German punk rock from the 70’s. I’m not the only john who likes Warhol & Kandinsky, William Burroughs & Edgar Burroughs, Ogilvy & Mather.

But, she had stringent screening requirements. She is, after all, a professional. Part of her requirements for accepting new clients was having references from two other providers. At the time, though I’d done a fair bit of whore-fucking, it was girls whose names I barely knew, much less knew how to get in touch with again to ask for a reference.
So I set out to meet the requirements. I searched the boards for escorts with less stringent requirements. I found that even among the members of the small ‘community’ not everyone was willing to give a referral. Some providers preferred to keep their client list to themselves. So, I fucked a bunch of hookers. Oh well.
I fucked all different shapes and sizes, ages and ethnicities, GFE’s and quickies. Always with an eye on the goal, the right references that would get me in to see the creme de la creme.
We missed connections a few times. Once, she advertised an incall special in my neck of the woods, but by the time I responded, she had already booked up. If my schedule opened up, hers filled out, if she was available, I couldn’t get away from work or family.
And so it went, until she finally said “enough!”
She had arranged for a week of incalls at a ritzy downtown hotel. She insisted I come see her.
“I’m not sure I can get away, it’s the holidays, I have family coming in from out of town…”
She insisted.
“I don’t know if I can get away from work…”
She persisted.
“I don’t…” “DO IT!”
I relented.

So there I was, the day before Thanksgiving, when I should’ve been on my way to the airport to pick up arriving family, instead I was knocking on the door of a very upscale hotel suite.

She took my breath away, she was everything I’d imagined. And more. Much, much more. Even though we’d chatted online for months, even though I had seen dozens of pictures of her; racy pictures, naughty pictures, pictures of her boobs. I had never seen her face until she opened that door.

Really?

What's she trying to hide? How can I tell if I want to fuck her?

Let me just say, as an aside, that there are many escorts who choose not to show their faces in their online photos. It’s often a point of serious contention among “hobbyists.” Some guys refuse to make an appointment with a girl unless they’ve seen a picture of her face. I’ve never been in that camp. They seem to think that the only reason a girl would obscure her face is if she’s lying about something, most likely because she’s ugly.
“What’s she trying to hide?”
Really? Really??
How about she may be trying to hide her job as a hooker from her friends, her family, her clergy, her boss? Maybe she’s trying to hide her illegal activities from a mortgage loan officer. Or a police vice officer. Ya think?
The overwhelming attitude is, she must be ugly if she needs to hide her face. I have never, not once, not ever found that to be the case.
But maybe I just have different standards, or, y’know… standards. I think if you’ve done your homework, you’ve looked at her pictures, her tits her ass her legs… whatever your particular fascination may be; you’ve checked out her reviews and know what her level of service is, what other clients have to say about her, what other escorts have to say about her, you’ve spent hour after hour chatting her up online, in forums, private messages and emails… then you know what you’re getting into. I can’t imagine a situation like that where the girl would turn out to be so physically, emotionally, spiritually beautiful to you and yet you’d turn her her away because her face wasn’t up to your exacting standards. But then again, I like women. I don’t tend to think of them as ugly.

Anyway…

… where was I?

Oh yes. Knocking on that door. She, of course, was beautiful. I had expected no less, could not have hoped for more. With that first hug, first kiss at the door, we were old friends, new lovers. We bounced off every horizontal surface of that hotel room, and a few vertical ones. We laughed, we talked, we fucked. And fucked. And fucked. A one hour appointment stretched into two, and the second hour was giving way to the third when I had to reluctantly disentangle myself and return to my real world life. Saying goodbye at the door, she tried everything she could to get me to stay.

I’ve seen her often, time and time again, repeatedly since then. I’ve spent hours fucking her in hotels all over the city. I’ve left her ass print on windows overlooking all of downtown.

These are the thoughts that flooded back to me in an instant of time the other day, as we again spent an afternoon in bed, our limbs entwined in that now familiar, yet still exciting tangle. She has her personal life, her home, her family. And I have mine. Yet, there we were, another sweaty afternoon, another hour stretching into two.

Love? Who said anything about love? Not me.

I’m much too smart to fall in love with a hooker. Aren’t I?

Hello, my name is Hooker Addict…

Really? You made her cum doing her doggy-style? GFE?

…and I’m, well, a hooker addict.
Well, no, not really an addict. I can quit fucking hookers anytime I want. I just do it to relieve stress. I’m just a social hooker fucker. Sure, I mostly do it in private, sure I hide it from my friends and family, sure I can never stick to ‘just one more strange pussy.’ But that doesn’t mean I have a problem.

Look, lots of guys get caught up into the whole “hobbyist” thang. Then they find themselves seeking more and more satisfaction. One hooker is never enough. Is it an addiction? I dunno, I’m just  a guy who likes to fuck hookers.

There are certainly a lot of elements of the whole “hobbyist” milieu that lend themselves to the addictive personality. I can see where it would be easy to fall into that trap. Easily accessible pussy, even if it’s paid-for pussy, has an undeniable appeal. Add to that the virtual affirmations you get from your fellow whoremongers, and it’s a slippery slope to a downward spiral. Or something.

Not too long ago, I wrote about the pack mentality prevalent among the “hobbyist” message boards. And I should know, I’m one of them. I wrapped up that commentary with a suggestion that some of my fellow whore fucking addicts may want to re-visit Step 9, a reference, of course, to the classic 12-Step programs. Meh. I write a lot of crap.

Special Delivery

Fan mail

I love getting comments from my readers, it lets me know what all y’all out there are thinking. You don’t always  agree with me, and that’s fine. You’re wrong, but that’s OK. Most comments I approve, some are clearly spam, and some are direct attacks that just go right into the trash. Generally, I welcome all comments from my readers. And even if I disagree, I’m usually amused, enlightened or entertained. Hell, I have one crazy-ass Bitch who hits my blog on a fairly regular basis to make wild hysterical comments. I’ve approved all of those. Then… then, there’s shit like this:

I opened up the big HookerAddict mailbag one day to find this waiting for me from some disgruntled fan calling himself  “Ball Smack” from Kansas, writing from what has every appearance of being a bogus e-mail address. My new correspondent Ballie takes personal exception to my attempts to denigrate the wonderful work being done by AA. Smackeroo writes:

“Wow. I shouldn’t reply to this thread, but I have to. I guess. Stop hating on everybody and go eat a vag or suck a dick or whatever your preference may be. No one cares. Your Bill Dubya campaign isn’t fooling anyone and twits like you will continue to ruin what he was striving for.

Please stop trying to ruin his mission because you feel let down.”

I.. well.. I don’t…

Step it up

Where to start, where to start.

“I shouldn’t reply to this thread. But I have to…” Isn’t that a bit like “I shouldn’t chug this Wild Turkey. But I guess I have to.”? You don’t have to. Free will and all that.

“Stop hating on everybody and go eat a vag or suck a dick…” May I direct you to Step 4: Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves and Step 7: Humbly asked god to remove our shortcomings

I am not now, nor have I ever been a member or participant in any 12-Step recovery program. And I don’t feel let down. For the record, I don’t believe in them. I think they’re bullshit. I’m sure someone in the vastness of the Internets will pipe in with stories of how being a Friend of Bill W saved their lives, and I’m certain there are abundant success stories out there.  I know a lot of “hobbyists” who are, as well as friends and co-workers who are “Friends of Bill.” I still think it’s bullshit. Because I think that the core of the program is to exchange one addiction for another. You give up your addictions to booze, dope, gambling or pussy and replace them with addictions to god, meetings, validation and bad coffee.

If you’re a so-called “hobbyist” in so-called recovery, fucking act like you believe in your platitudes. Instead of blaming those dirty whores for your failings, think about humbly asking your god to remove your shortcomings. Instead of lashing out at hookers (or bloggers) maybe it’s time to once again make a searching and fearless moral inventory of yourselves. And, having slipped from the path and hidden behind your cloak of Internet anonymity to bash, berate, degrade and vilify those hookers whom you’ve picked as targets for your vitriol, may I once again suggest you revisit Step 9.

P.S. I’ve approved “Ball Smack’s” comment.

In among the wolves.

Keeping an eye on you.

As most of you who have blogs or websites know, we can see where the clicks to our sites are coming from.There are stat trackers galore and even the most basic blogging package has a hit counter of some sort. For example, I can see what websites I’m being linked to, I can see what web search terms people are using to stumble upon my little corner of the web.

Yeah, I can see that the most common search term used to direct traffic to the ol’ Hooker Addict is tied in to an essay I wrote some 5-6 months ago. For some reason, the topic refuses to die. I can see that I’m still getting traffic from a comment I posted on another blog months ago. And I guess I should be flattered that people searching for “huge cock” are being directed to me.

And I can see when you guys are talking about me on your message boards.

Because I’m one of you.

That’s right guys. I’m on your message boards, I’m in your private clubs, I’m on the ‘men only’ boards.

I wrote not too long ago about the social horror of the Hooker/Hobbyist Meet & Greet. Social awkwardness coupled with a sense of entitlement is a bad combination. A certain local message/review board linked to my blog on a thread about meet & greets. I could see every time someone clicked that link in that thread. But I didn’t need a stat tracker to tell me I’d been linked. I could read it myself.

And then you guys kicked it up a notch. You moved the discussion to the private men only board. Here, as you so often do, you used the cloak of internet invisibility, not to look inward but to lash out. But you didn’t lash out at me, did you?

I’m watching you. I know all you guys. I’ve partied with you. Hell, I may (or may not) have commented on that thread.

You wonder why I don’t like “hobbyists”? It’s because of that behavior. The venue brings out the worst in you. Some of you I have personally liked, I’ve had drinks with you, or maybe I just had a drink while you drank club soda. But based on your behavior behind closed Internet doors, maybe it’s time you start working the steps again. Maybe make a searching and fearless moral inventory of yourselves again.

What are you saying? Your jacket doesn’t fit right with that knife in your back? Malcontent? Off your meds? What an amusing bon mot, joking about how a certain hooker actually likes being groped! Of course, she also likes doing bareback gangbangs, but you forgot to mention that part.

I’ll keep watching you, I’ll keep writing about you. And I’ll keep waiting for you to revisit Step 9.

There’s always a woman to blame.

Some people claim there's always a woman to blame

It’s not news (no, really, it isn’t), some high profile celebrity gets caught cheating on his high profile celebrity wife. Whether it’s an athlete, an actor or a famous mechanic (really? WTF? What’s next, celebrity grocery baggers?), we’re all drawn in to the tawdry drama. In the wake of the recent revelations of general horndoggery by Jesse James and the seemingly never-ending Tiger Woods Apology Tour, one thing is constant: those dirty, nasty, skanky whores who led them astray.

For example, in a recent online discussion of the James/Bullock story, with multiple alleged mistresses starting to come out of the woodwork, there was a comment made that Sandra Bullock should get herself tested for STDs. Good advice, to be sure, but the rationale was that the concern was because of the low class tattooed stripper porn stars Jesse was fucking were sure to be disease ridden whores. Whoa! Wait a minute, he’s the one going from one partner to another (to another and another and another), he’s the indiscriminate fucker here. But the women are the ones to blame if his dick falls off. The clowder of pussy surrounding Tiger is almost always portrayed as gold digging sluts… even if they were just waitresses in love. Noted relationship authority Dr. Jim Carrey, fresh off the news that his own relationship was on the rocks, chose to support Tiger by lashing out at Tiger’s wife. On his Twitter, Carrey posted:

“no wife is blind enough to miss that much infidelity. Elin had to be a willing participant on the ride for whatever reason. kids/lifestyle.”

Tiger goes back to his million dollar home, his million dollar wife and his million dollar job, and his wife, girlfriends and mistresses get thrown under the bus.

When it comes to “hobbyists”, there’s no fuck up that can’t be blamed on a hooker. Can’t get it up? That bitch was too ugly. Too broke to fuck? Those bitches charge too much. It’s not that you’re too short, that bitch was too tall. When hobbyists start talking about the reasons why they fuck hookers (and they always do), nine times out of ten it’s because the wife won’t put out anymore. See? They wouldn’t have to fuck hookers if the wife would just give it up more. It’s her fault he has to pay for pussy.

Last week I saw a post on the BrokeBastardsBoard titled simply “Bitch.” Simple facts, guy makes last minute appointment with escort, she’s a few minutes late, calls to ask if he wants to proceed or reschedule. Yeah, egregious. Seriously, he called her at 8:45. To make an appointment for 9:30. At 9:45, she calls him to say she got held up a bit, does he still want to get together or make it for some other time. And that makes her a bitch. A bitch that deserves being called out on a message board because she wasted his time and ruined his night. Dude, if your window of opportunity is so narrow that 15 minutes is a make-or-break, you probably shouldn’t be stepping out to see hookers at the last minute. Maybe plan ahead a bit. Your inability to plan doesn’t make her a bitch. “Hobbyists” are rarely if ever wrong. If a hooker says something you disagree with, you can round up all your message board warriors and start a thread calling her a bitch. After all, whatever stupid thing you said, whatever boneheaded move you made, whatever your shortcomings, there’s no problem too big (or too small) it can’t be blamed on a ho.

There’s a heavy weighting among the hobbyist class towards the Party of Personal Responsibility™. Which makes it all the more ironic that they don’t seem to be able to actually, y’know, accept personal responsibility. The boards afford them an opportunity to indulge in their favorite pastime. Cuz all they wanna do is bitch.

Sex and the 405

I’m proud to announce that I’ve hitched my wagon to the ever-awesome Sex and the 405I’ll be contributing occasional original content for them.

Currently, I’m working on a multi-part series on the ins & outs of how to hire an escort.

In addition to my quasi-literate scribblings, they always have great articles and information.

Go. Read. Then come back here and let me know what ya think.