The Whore

The Whore

The Whore
Main Entry: 1whore
Pronunciation: \ˈhȯr, ˈhu̇r\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English hore, from Old English hōre; akin to Old Norse hōra whore, hōrr adulterer, Latin carus dear — more at charity
Date: before 12th century
1 : a woman who engages in sexual acts for money : prostitute; also : a promiscuous or immoral woman
 2 : a male who engages in sexual acts for money
 3 : a venal or unscrupulous person

Whore. I absolutely love this word; it is one of the few words that get its point across in no uncertain terms. Immediately, the listener, the speaker, the audience knows just what you are, and what you do. As far as job descriptions goes it is pretty concise and exact. Unlike some of the other words used to describe what I do, escort, call girl, floozy, slut, dollymop, tramp, coquette, flirt, siren, temptress, wench and trollop. Whore is in my opinion the quintessential essence of female power. It breaks all the rules. It sets its own agenda and marches to the beat of its own drummer. It is very liberating.

All women are whores, we are hardwired by nature to choose the best mate for our offspring, once that task has concluded we will use sex for any multitude of reasons, for protection, for medicinal reasons, for power, and for security*. Whatever the reason we are using sex, whether consciously or not we are by definition of the word whores. Personally, I am ok with this.

Why am I a whore? Because it pays damn good! Sorry to burst the bubble on the stereotypical view most of you have about us, you know the one in which the media, aid organizations and most literature portrays us as street walking crack-heads, selling our pussies to the lowest bidder for a quick hit of the pipe? Or, the trafficked non-English speaking foreign woman brought over to work as a sex slave in some sleazy back alley brothel, kept drugged up, used and abused?

Nope, that isn’t me not in the slightest. I am an educated, intelligent, independent woman who after much research decided to try this as an alternative to working in the local grocery store. See, at the time I didn’t need to work, I had a nice BF that was supporting me and the then little ones just fine. It was more an issue of not always wanting to rely on him for money, I liked having my own. The ladies sitting behind the counter of the local super market look miserable, brain-dead, unmotivated, unenthusiastic, and bored. The thought of having to face those types of colleagues was not an entertaining one

I could have done something else, such as worked at the school or local shops, but I just felt I would be wasting my time; and to tell the truth I am, if I were to be  completely honest, lazy. Not lazy in the sense of not wanting to work at all, more a unmotivation to work the basic boring 9-5 drudge type job. I don’t want to work 40 hours a week for pittance, sorry but that in my opinion isn’t a life, it is slavery, and that was supposedly abolished at least in this part of the world, some time ago. So, I choose to be a whore. Because when I weighed the costs to benefit ratio I realized I could make about the same as someone working in an everyday ordinary job,  have free time and not need a man around to support me, which was the main aim of the exercise.  I liked calling the shots, I hated compromising and I hated being told what to do by some man who because he is endowed with external genital thinks it is his god given right to tell me what I must and mustn’t do. Not bloody likely.

The thought of being married to someone for 50 years, the same someone for all those years fills me with dread. Now if I could change them every 5-7 years, like a car, then I might be able to manage it. I lose patience with people after a few weeks, much less half a life time. It absolutely amazes me how women can be married to the same man for so long and not slow poison him?

I do, as a general rule find men to be rather stupid and slow, even the intelligent ones, especially the intelligent ones. They can figure out quantum physics, but can’t remember to pick the little ones from school and forget getting them ready for school, completely baffles them.

Not to mention they just feel the need to interfere in all manner of matters that just don’t concern them. So, for my peace of mind I prefer not to have them around unless they are paying me ridiculous sums of money, or they are serving a purpose be it a direct one such as taking out the garbage, or a more esoteric one, like engaging in a stimulating conversation. If the average man could manage to lift his head or his thoughts out of his crotch for longer than it takes him to zip his fly, you would find they can be wonderful creatures to converse with when dealt with in small doses.

Now before you ladies get the placards out and join hands in female solidarity, the average female of the species comes with her own set of issues as well, in fact it is a toss-up as to which of the two sexes I dislike more. Men are pretty predictable, fuck ‘em, feed ‘em, let them out to play boyish games and they are pretty much set. Women on the other hand brilliant in some areas, organized, multi-tasking, social engineers, communicative, empathetic, sympathetic. I mean with all these talents, why don’t they rule the world you may ask? The reason is women as a whole really don’t play well with other women. We are viciously competitive, in a way and about things that men will never be able to comprehend. I don’t understand it either. We are keepers of the grudge. As a general rule  we don’t trust other women, because we know what we are capable of, we are after all one of them.

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