Smoking hot

Smoking when it's hot doesn't make you smoking hot of course, but it helps against boredom.

That's what whoredom is, most of the time. You have to make the most of it, or you gather cobwebs instead of clients. You don't want that, you have to be the spider yourself. You have to sit still and look pretty. And react at the proper time to the right passers-by.
That's where other hobbies kick in. Smoking is one of them. It doesn't help against the boredom itself, as I mistakenly said in the intro, but it gives the boredom a flavour.

It ages your skin too. Clients don't like that. But some of them do like it when their hooker looks the part. Not everyone wants schoolgirls with pigtails. That's where smoking kicks in as well.

The fucking sea

Last night it was party night again!

Suzi and Rachael were DJ'ing while a bunch of my colleagues (and me) danced to the tunes. Some men came in, with or without their wedding rings. Not with their partners, those were carefully hidden from us. Or should I say: they carefully hide us from them?
Not that it matters, they pay up and it paid us a nice party. Music and dance until the early hours. Oh did I tell you the theme was 'the fucking sea?'. No? Well next month we have another theme. I'll try to be there as well...

Doggy the street musician came back

Well... Doggy comes in every now and then, or Husky, I think his name is.

This time he looked especially colourful, with lots of particle effects. For the first time also I managed to actually listen to him. Otherwise I would just hang around and enjoy the act.
Maybe we should invite him over for one of our monthly parties some day. He could do the music...

Whotter bit her

A new colleague of mine, who was quite enthousiastically talking about her exploits as a street hooker suddenly noticed the little fellow that had followed me around. Our mutual colleague also didn't know him yet.
So they both greeted Whotter. They didn't realise he was my son. Once one of the girls referred to him as 'the rat', things went wrong...

I don't have to explain again he has sharp teeth. Breastfeeding was always an issue. Fortunately he can now rummage through trashcans, hunt for little critters together with his friend the fox and occasionally beg for a fish with my friend Stephanie.
He can also bite. I don't have to mention she felt that...

Sitting on the spindle

Lately I've spent some time at Street Whores - Town Square in the more 'remote' parts of the neighbourhood. I say 'remote' because it's often just 50 - 100 metres from the teleport point. I kind of like it though, since it requires me to pay less attention to the lazy people who come in and then hang out at the teleport spot, never moving.

It enables me to blog as well, as I can calmly type up things, while I lazily (yes, me too, but in another way :-P ) wait for a guy to walk by my part of town. After all, as Virginia Woolf said: "All a girl needs to write is an alley of her own..."

Empty glass

I don't know how many times I was asked this stupid question: "For you, is the glass half empty or half full?¨

It's a silly piece of rhetoric that's always used to demonstrate how we can perceive things from a different perspective. It's used as a half-baked test for optimism or pessimism, in job interviews, by drunk aunts and uncles and the like.
Of course the question in itself is part of a frame: it suggests that an optimistic or pessimistic view has any influence over events in reality, whatever that might be.
I don't care, I like to stick to the facts. And in this case the glass is really empty. I need a drink.