Swedish Model

Of all the anti prostitution laws on the books, most aimed at making the lives of women seeking to make a living as dangerous as possible. Ireland of course chooses the possibility of criminalising the client, or the law more popularly known as the Swedish Model. Which makes it illegal to purchase sex, but not illegal to sell. The idea being to stop men from purchasing and exploiting women. Ha! The idiots who came up with this did not think this through. I have worked in countries where this law is in affect and it makes no difference.

But I have a feeling it will make a difference in Ireland. But not the one everyone thinks. The difference I think it will make is to possibly instill a slight modicum of manners into the punting population.

You must remember that the Irish punter as a whole is a slightly self entitled, xenophobic creature. But they are scared as shit of their own shadows, their neighbours, their wives, mothers, dicks, sexual urges. You name it. The idea of it being illegal to purchase sex will make them more skittish than ever. But trust me this is a good thing, why?

Because fear is a good thing when dealing with the Irish punter. It is shocking how many don’t know it is legal. And far be it from me to tell them differently. But adding the part that makes it illegal for them to buy will have the added benefit of making them even more fearful. Fear makes them behave, well in as much as they are capable of.

Guilt is another motivating factor. But the Catholic Church took care of that one already.

So the combination of fear, guilt, horniness and disposable income will create the perfect punter. Let’s hope the extra fear improves their ability to listen and follow directions.

1. Broke Ass Bitches

Lord in his heavens save me from the creature known as a Broke As Bitch-BAB! You will find these in all walks of life, and in both sexes. But the one that particularly chaps my cunt is the one who manages to find the one iota of ambition she has to get off her ass and then decides to sell it. This one is the worst, why? Because this lazy bitch is too insouciant to realise that the rest of use hos are doing this as a business and not to feed a boyfriend, pay a late bill, get a new Guess bag, or a weeks supply of weed!

So, she couldn’t careless if she is selling below market value, and offering the sun, the moon, and her ass for a few quid! Nope, it is more than she gets sitting on her ass collecting the dole, or the wage slave job she works, so it is all gravy to this female. This shit makes me want to scream in frustration!

And don’t make the mistake of pointing out to this vile little guttersnipe she is giving the farm away! No, the insults hurled at you will vary from, being too old to attract clients, to thinking this is a business and how hard and business like we are. God save me! I really want to slap some sense into the little bitches head! But I don’t bother!

Why, I simply rely on the law of averages. Which states, she is going to attract the wrong sort of clientele and that unfortunately is when she quietly disappears from the scene. Never to be heard from again. I say unfortunately, because usually it takes a nasty incident happening to her to realise all the hardened old bitches were right! No one, even a BAB should have to learn a lesson this way.

I will not for a minute pretend to like this type, I don’t, but I don’t wish them harm, I wish them success, why? Because the sooner she reaches her goal the better off it is for the rest of us who do this for a living.

The Life of a Lady

Introduction….
I am sitting in a well-known international airport lounge after yet again another successful tour. I am seriously flushed, both with the success of a job well done and also from the two glasses of seriously delicious Champagne I have just drunk. I am contented, almost to the point of sighing randomly for no apparent reason. I will board my flight return to my lovely apartment, stroke my cat, kiss my children, call my friends and resume the façade of being a respectable up standing member of society.

You see I am a total and complete fraud. I have created a façade that to date is air tight and unbreakable that even with proof provided to my friends and acquaintances, no one would believe it. There are all kinds of titles for what I do, there are all kinds of derogatory terms for what I do. These all just roll off my back, I don’t take them on board, they do not affect the way I work or my attitude towards what I do. To put it simply I am a prostitute, an escort, a whore, a fallen woman. But mostly I consider myself a businesswoman. Whatever they wish to call me is irrelevant, as long as they do call. Oh and clients do. Ireland is one of the few places I have worked in the world that has such a consistent base of clients. Even in the middle of the recession, I am still making some serious money; basically my standard of living hasn’t taken a dent in the slightest, if anything it has improved. But this is something I am careful not to let on to my clients or other working girls. The wrath that would be reigned down upon my head in the form of malicious behavior, nasty phone calls, or the extreme of having someone booking an appointment and attempting to rob me are very real and does happen. I often wonder if the American West used to be like this? Because in Ireland they seem to make the rules as they go along, depending on which friend of a family member, distant relative or neighbor from two doors down is under scrutiny.

So I keep my pretty Dior glossed lips sealed and pretend I am struggling and barely making it. What man doesn’t like a damsel in distress? They don’t need to know I see an average of 5-7 clients a day. Make in a day what most middle executives make in a week. They, need to keep that stereotypical view that I am a struggling wronged single mom, fallen on hard times, trying to make ends meet.

Because, let’s face it, no one likes a successful whore, the clients don’t like it, they start to feel resentful, and jealous, other whores don’t like it, because women as a whole are very insecure about themselves and can’t handle competition, and society certainly doesn’t like it, because by flouting all the rules we are making a mockery of said rules, and this just can’t be allowed.

To say that I love what I do wouldn’t be true; what I love is my bank balance! Every time I log on to one of my various bank accounts around the world, and tally up the balances, a warm fuzzy feeling of contentment fills me, a smile comes across my face and I get a serious rush, which I transfer into creating new ideas for getting more clients and keeping the ones I have.

I bank privately, this is a world most people will never know, I have several account managers, in several countries, who know all my little banking secrets and help to keep my money safe, secure and well hidden. All the EU regulations apply to the everyday folk, people who bank in a certain way, don’t really have to deal with these pesky little regulations.  There always has and always will be two standards of living and operating, one for rule followers and rule makers. I fit into neither of those categories, I am a rule breaker. I manipulate systems, people, and rules to my own advantage. I learn the rules so I can find ways around them. This is done on a small-scale, so no one really notices.

I have a standard of living that most people only dream about or read about. I have  a house keeper, a personal trainer, a driver and au pairs.  I play tennis on the weekends, weather permitting with the ladies who lunch crowd. I have the right memberships to the right organizations and clubs. I vote conservatively. I may be  very liberal in my thoughts and actions, but politically I want safe streets, government accountability, and immigration limits. Foreign women are bad for business. They don’t know the rules of the game nor do they understand the value of currency, note I said currency and not money. Understanding currency values and money are two different things entirely. So, I am a serious right-wing hard-core criticizer of any governments open border policy. I have nothing against immigrants in general, I think to some closed cultures they can introduce a different perspective and bring about an awareness of the closed-ness of that society, even leading to a few marriages and some new blood being introduced to the gene pool.  Which to be honest the Irish can do with, they have been inter-marrying and breeding for far too long.

Well, that is my plane being called, one last sip of Champagne before I fly home to the family. I have to remember to put back on my costume, a designer business suite, a pair of Jimmy’s, the Prada over-sized bag,  and the facade.  Oh, yes I must call the driver to pick me up in the usual place.
If only people knew.