Tampa Bay Gay Prostitutes Gearing Up For Flood Of Closeted Republicans

Tampa Bay Gay Prostitutes Gearing Up For Flood Of Closeted Republicans


‎"No one loves a hooker with a dick under her dress more than a closeted Republican. No one."

cunt of the minotaur

my new favourite tumblr

http://thecuntoftheminotaur.tumblr.com/

last days of Sydney - diary of a crackwhore

the Elk got a message from a client asking if we were both available for tonight. it was a job that required us to take loads of drugs. the Elk had been building a garden all day and was wrecked. crawling into bed at 9pm. "if we're leaving, we're gonna need lots of drugs for the going way party" i thought. the Elk was fine with me taking the job alone. i would just be up all night watching bad horror films and re-runs of drag race anyway. no doubt if i stayed home, in desperately trying to be quiet then it was more likely that i would make a thousands times more noise than i normally would. i'd drop a beer bottle on the floor, knock over the dish rack spilling crockery on to the tiles or burn my hand on the kettle making a cup of tea and scream like a girl.  he would get some rest if i was out of the house

i turned up at the clients apartment around 11pm. Ricardo is a guy in his mid 20s. he is a good looking brazillian guy, and more importantly, a really nice guy. he likes big beefy muscled older hairy so i was hired by a fuck buddy of his for Ricardo's birthday. he was mighty happy with me, but when he wanted a massage and i referred the job to the Elk. once that tight little silver fox waltzed into Ric's hotel room he fell in love. unfortunately he could not get us both tonight. so i had to take all the drugs myself, dammit!

it's no surprise to anyone that drugs are heavily involved in the sex industry. many are under the impression that one fuels the other, on both sides - clients and sex workers. 

first rule of whoring is - if you say you'll do the drugs, you will get the job

second rule of whoring is - the more drugs you do, the longer they hire you for

third rule of whoring is - you get paid more if you offer to get paid in drugs

fourth rule of whoring is - don't get too fucked up. don't become a junkie. don't get a bad reputation for yourself. no one likes a skanky crackwhore

normally, i barely get past the first rule. if i'm fucked up, high off my guts i don't want to be working and i sure as fuck don't want to be having sex with someone i'm not really attracted to. i'm a rotten liar and my cock is even worse at hiding contempt. it will simply throw a tanty, not play nicely or worse, shrivel up. it's foreskin pouting like a spoiled child child forced to sit on Santa's knee. therefore i rarely do chem jobs. but Ric is alright. he's fun to hang out with

first a line. then a chat. lose an item of clothing

then a pill. then a chat. lose another item of clothing

some GHB. more chatting. down to my jocks

a puff. a chat. not much left to shed, but since the crack pipe is already out you start fucking anyway

sexy times only last about half an hour. we just pissed around chatting. i kept checking my phone to see if the Elk had awoken and want to join us, but he was fast asleep. Ricardo wanted others to join the party so fucked out our minds we started chatting to guys on grindr. the usual chatting would happen, exchange xxx pics and when it came time to exchange phone numbers or address we got distracted. these horny guys aching for cock were left hanging because we, grown men in out 20s and 30s, were running around the apartment laughing our tits off having a naked pillow fight. 

the kid had just split with his boyfriend. he didn't need a drug fuelled orgy. he just needs to have fun

"i like you. when i talk to the Elk he nods and smiles but i don't think he understands what i say. i don't know what he say sometimes." i guess a conversation would be tough when one guy with a thick brazilian accent is trying to hold a conversation with a guy speaking with a thick irish accent and they're both stupidly high. i'm having trouble trying to smoke meth and listening… oh wait… now he's dancing… yep conversation is over, now he's dancing… and now he's collapsing

he was standing and then within a second dropped to the ground. collapsed straight into the down-face dog. it was one of the funniest things i have ever seen and exploded with a laugh

then, 'shit!' i thought, "is he okay?" i froze completely still wandering what a drug fucked hooker is supposed to do when a John dies on them. call for an ambulance? bundle him into a taxi? do i run? 

then he started snoring

i sit there for a bit and wonder what to do. with a crack pipe in one hand and a lighter in the other. porn on the tv in front of me, a raging hard on between my legs and the body of my client collapsed into a pile of steamy sweaty unconscious flesh snoring naturally i do what any caring and responsible adult would do - i kick back, smoke another rock, turn up the porno and start pulling my cock. finally i get a little me time

soon the snoring is so loud now it's really interrupting my wank. it's louder than the porn. i sigh heavily and with my phone in one hand and cock in the other, i text the Elk. 'um. he's passed out. what should i do?'

The Elk responds. he won't be joining us. 'no rush to come home. if you're fucked up don't drive home until you sober up' he says, 'i will just be sleeping.' 

no fair. i want be at home fucking him

i pick Ric up and drag him to bed. immediately his arms wrap around me and he falls with all his dead weight asleep on my chest. i can barely move but it's adorable. like a giant version of those koala souvenirs that clip onto your shirt. i can't disturb that. so i entertain myself with the only things within reach: my phone, an iPad full of gay porn and a table of drugs. 

in an effort to sober up i smoke more rocks. the pass the time until i sober up i keep masturbating. i try to wake Ricardo up to let him know i'm leaving so he can pay me. 2 hours later it's still not possible. not so fucked up now from the mix, but holy shit i am so high from the pipe. i peel Ricardo off me. try to work out how much i should be paid. i gather the drugs. i gather my gear. i gather my clothes. i'm so scattered i forget what the hell i'm doing i keep doing the same thing over and over

"good night! i'm going! see ya!" i shout as i shake him. his eyelids open but his eyes have rolled out of sight. he's okay. he will sleep it off

i manage to not kill myself in a motorbike accident on the way home. after a hard night's work and wired as fuck i drop some more G and settle on the sofa with some nasty straight porn wanking myself to sleep

ahh sleep... 

"WAKE UP!" *SLAP* "are you going to be sick?"

"what the fuck?" i shout "no!"

"are you going to throw up!?!"

"what? no!"

suddenly the sun was up and the Elk was sitting next to me. turns out it wasn't sleep, but unconsciousness i was falling into. my first G overdose and i missed the whole damn thing! no fair! 

i had broken the fourth rule. i am a drug whore. a messy overdosing drug whore

i curl up onto the Elk's chest in bed. my head falling through his rib cage and melting on his spine. i don't remember much but i was mumbling. just mumbling shit. i fall asleep

"so what did you get me?" the Elk grinned the following day, "ahem, i mean us, what did you get us?"

"it's on the table," i dribble a mouthful of downy pillow

moments later in the kitchen i hear, "shit! oh… um…"

"what?" i leave my head wrapped up in the duvet. turns out i was really scattered. as i gathered my stuff ready to leave over and over and over i must have grabbed what gear i thought was my payment over and over and over. it was meant to be enough for us to enjoy our last few weeks in Sydney. but i had grabbed more gear than i have taken in the last year. "oh… oops. he'll call back. he won't think i robbed him, will he?"

making the decision between honesty or pleading ignorance can wait. i need a fucking hot cuppa tea

whoring tips: 18 again - vagina tightening cream

no one likes a loose whore. order now!





"So if you survived being killed off once you became a foetus and your vagina could be spotted in a sonogram, then made it past the volleys of men who tried to molest and rape you and the others who tried to bump you off because you are beyond your sell-by-date – celebrate you must. And do it by buying yourself a tube of 18 Again."

read the full article here. it's brilliant

all men are potential pedophiles, Richard Branson

while i'm riding on my white male privilege kick, here's a little story stolen from the Sydney Morning Herald

A public backlash has prompted Virgin Australia to announce it will review its policy barring men from sitting beside unaccompanied children on flights. The company was today widely criticised after a Sydney fireman reported his experience of being asked to swap seats because he was sat beside two unaccompanied boys.

Johnny McGirr, 33, said he was flying home from Brisbane in April when he took his seat next to two boys he estimated to be aged between eight and 10.

He was assigned the window seat but sat in the aisle seat so the two boys could look out the window.

However, a flight attendant approached him just as passengers were asked to put on their seatbelts, asking him to move.

Mr McGirr said when he asked why, he was told, "Well you can't sit next to two unaccompanied minors."

"She said it was the policy and I said, 'Well, that's pretty sexist and discriminatory. You can't just say because I'm a man I can't sit there,' and she just apologised and said that was the policy.

"By this stage everyone around me had started looking."

Mr McGirr said the attendant then asked a fellow female passenger, "Can you please sit in this seat because he is not allowed to sit next to minors."

"After that I got really embarrassed because she didn't even explain. I just got up and shook my head a little, trying to get some dignity out of the situation," he said.

Mr McGirr pointed out that he works as a fireman in Newtown in Sydney and was trusted in his job to look out for the welfare of children.

"[The attitude of the airline] is 'we respect you but as soon as you board a Virgin airline you are a potential paedophile', and that strips away all the good that any male does regardless of his standing in society, his profession or his moral attitudes," he said.

"[It's] blatant discrimination that just because I'm a male I can't sit there," he said.

"They apologised that it happened on the flight and said it shouldn't have happened then but my issue is not with the mistakes made there; my issue is with the policy in general.

"The majority of sexual assaults are [also] committed by men. Does that mean that we can't sit next to women? Should we just have a seat by ourselves and that way women and children will be protected?" Mr McGirr said he understood the children were vulnerable when not with an adult but said that fears about crimes committed by a small minority of people should not rule society.

on the discrimination side, yes this is a cunty thing to do to men, but i think i'll be fine not seated next to a screaming child and some unchaparoned rats

futurama

bender turns to prostitution

how to give the worst head job ever

gore vidal

Marge: “Did you invite one of your friends?”

Lisa: “Friends? Ha! These are my only friends: Grown-up nerds like Gore Vidal. And even he’s kissed more boys than I ever will.”

Marge: “Girls, Lisa. Boys kiss girls.”

last days of Sydney - stability or indignity

my sublet in sydney is coming to an end. in a few weeks i had to make a decision. do i go through the ridiculous process of trying to find an apartment in Sydney. an apartment that would be 2-3 times what i'm paying right now? and get a whole lot less? and who would rent it to someone like me who is officially unemployed and has zero income?

"we've tried it your way," the elk said, "now we let's try it my way." he wanted me to come overseas. "i have a friend in Berlin who rents his apartment out for most of the year."

only 18months ago i had packed up all my useless shiny pretty things and moved to another city for some guy. that turned to shit within weeks. so now come the opportunity to do it again. 

again? to another city? to another country?

what if it all goes to shit and i'm stranded not just far from home but another fucking hemisphere? i don't have parents i can fall back on. the family i have is buckling under it's own problems. i'm sure friends have branded me an idiot who take ridiculous risks that only sometimes pay off

more importantly, what of the Elk? travelling can be pretty damn stressful. it has not even been 6 months and we want to test each other like this? is the holiday worth it? i got bored with travelling solo years ago. travelling with another can make for some of the best holidays. but is seeing all the amazing shit of europe worth running our relationship into the ground?

should i go?

of course i'm fucking going to! the perk of being a manwhore is working from home. my office is right between my legs. i can pack it up and ship it out within minutes. take time off whenever i want. open my office anywhere i want. like a taco truck of sex, but hairier. 

why be stable and try to make something of myself in Sydney when i can fail miserably at making something of myself in a new city? i want to go back to the earlier days of being an international playboy, except now i i get to be a daddy! being a daddy is so much easier because i don't have bother douching. as much as i long to suffer the indignity of one leg hairy thigh cocked up and resting on the decrepit wash basin, plaster crumbling as the sink pulls away from the wall under my weight, hanging by a thread of asbestos as i balance above it bent over and feeding a squeezy douche of scummy european water up my arse. preparing for whatever scene i've struggled to negotiate with a client in broken pigeon english in the godforsaken bedbug-ridden shitty budget hotel i'm foolishly trying to save money in

undignified? yes. sure it may be no more sterile, but it definitely is classier than the whorebath in a bus station mens room. between one job and the next scrubbing the skank from your pits why overhearing a married man in a toilet cubicle try to ever-so-quietly suck some anonymous cock under the irritating flicker of the fluorescent tubes. why? because this whore bath will be in Paris, London, Milan….

...Berlin?
rot. gold. schwarz. i wish this could be your colour, Germany but indignity is nothing new for her. she will feel like home

times have changed. i'm not some aimless fuck-the-world punk with no respect for himself or the system, i'm a daddy now. and that means all i gotta do is rinse my cock now and then (except in england with their love of rank foreskins and cockcheese, i won't even have to bother with that)

So why not stumble over the same financial hurdles in Berlin? why not have clients shit all over my carpet in Barcelona? why not get fucked up on a clients drugs and stagger about completely lost in Stockholm?

i can make a complete fuck up of myself in new surroundings. as for the Elk and I, why not? moving to the Berlin, the party city of homo-sex and drugs is quite a baptism for any relationship to survive, but i couldn't imagine someone i'd rather take such a huge gamble with. 

if things don't work out, then we will jump off that bridge when we come to it