Boyfriends

Let me start with the most promising type that I saw: pretty boyfriend, partner boyfriend.

Let's call him Jack, and his girlfriend Joann. They are in it together, probably from the very beginning. He's the driver, the body guard. That's why I ran into them together once. He's medium tall, looked gentle, soft speaking, with a pair of intellectual eye glasses, sort of pretty, but too gay for many girls' taste.

I imagined that it's Joann's only way to keep him and settle him down at a young age - to sacrifice herself. They are a young couple who couldn't find things worthwhile to do. So Joan worked, got the money to enjoy life while they are young, and put him through college, or that sort of thing. I know they borrow from the Madam sometimes when business is slow, and Joann work it off. It's also Madam's way to maintain a steady supply of workers, rather than everybody becoming freelancers.

It's hard to explain. I think it's Joann's idea rather than Jack manipulating her into working. The last time I heard, they are still together after at least several years. Jack finished his college and got a job for 30K a year. It's not enough for Joann to leave work, especially when Joann wants a new Z3. While Chanel is breaking up with her boyfriend and losing her new 740 'company' car at the end of the lease. Joann was a college girl next door type. Now she bolted on a pair of double D's and carries on.

How do I know all these? You may have guessed. Joann is Chanel's buddy. And of course I fucked them both.

Chanel and Joann probably started together, but Chanel didn't give me the chance to say I knew. When I mentioned that Joann is pretty good, and that I saw her several times, Chanel would say she worked a lot longer than she did. They both worked for that Madam. Joann opted for a steady income and stayed with the Madam and several other agencies. Chanel had nothing to lose as she was living with her mother. And since her face is more outstanding, she got picked for a higher end agency for a while. That's when I met her.

Since I knew Chanel's history by asking around insiders, I didn't like the high end agency fee a bit. When I tried to persuade Chanel to skip the agency and go private with me, she refused but told me she could recommend a 'cheaper' friend to me, who must be Joann. But Chanel never introduced Joann to me. In this case introduction would be silly for Chanel. At that time if I met Joann I would certainly switch.

I met Joann by accident. An agent called me that he had a new girl that I must see. I screwed up big time on the traffic. The girl had other commitments when I arrived. So the agent called another girl to cover for the must-see girl. So I ended up with Joann, and I found out that the must-see girl was Chanel. The good thing was that, this agency was less high end than the agency that I used to book Chanel. So later I gave Chanel an offer that she couldn't refuse, without breaking my bank. And I got hooked on her.

Back to Joann. She's pretty but not outstanding. She is slender with some meat on the right places, slightly taller than Chanel and slightly heavier. I can remember her pale round tight bouncy bottom. I can say that Joann and Jack is not about great sex or are fuck buddies. It's more like companionship and comfort sex. How do I know? Did I say that I fucked Joann?

At the time, when Chanel didn't budge on her high end agency fee, I asked for Joann instead. Maybe I asked for her really because I wanted Chanel to know, and make her jealous. But certainly I liked Joann, so I had nothing to lose.

Of course Joann remembered me. Many girls tried hard to impress me (and others) at the first date, saying how much they appreciate my patronage and how eager they want to please me, and look at me with sparkles in their eyes. Many other girls maintain some distance and remain cool or lurk warm on first date. But if I asked for them again they will change dramatically. They may like me very much on first date, but the chance for average clients to ask for them again is pretty small. So they don't want to waste their effort or emotions. Joann is one of these.

So it's pretty easy to get Joann's private number. I called her the next week for a long session, on her freelance day. They always wear causals, plain enough to go in and out of residential houses without attracting attention. That day she got something special for me underneath. She deduced me with her cartoon panties and matching white socks.

The next time I called her, she didn't sound at all enthusiastic. She couldn't have forgotten about me. She told me in plain voice that she couldn't make it that day, but maybe the day after. May be Madam was around. But being me, I could imagine that Chanel wasn't happy, had some territorial issues with her regarding me, and that Jack wasn't too happy about me. It seemed to me that Jack is always around to make sure that her girlfriend doesn't run away with anybody, and to make sure that Joann wasn't enjoying herself too much. I didn't date Joann again for no particular reason. If we met that day things could turn out very differently.

Boyfriends who know what their girlfriends do would find it hard to deal with. But for Jack it's particularly hard.

The new Dom in training, who got my vote for most likely to succeed, once recommended my blog for writing about but not judging call girls. I felt so like a bimbo. I just don't feel like to open cans of worms. And there's not much to judge, similar stories, too much sex too early, short of money or want a lot of things, boy friends who know or not.

What is there to like? She may put a john into the no list and hang up just because he asked the wrong question on the phone. We spend on average seconds on the pictures that get rejected. We also make split second decisions, whether to walk away, or open the door. Johns and hookers all feel so powerful (and yet so vulnerable), which is unhealthy. Normal people give other people more chances than that. I remember someone said when a guy said something boring or wrong, she would think that the guy is lucky when she is there for free.

Are we jealous of others? Very difficult unless there is a deeper personal connection involved. For example, the following comments are left by call girls on their clients, and the true meaning behind them that don't make me jealous.

a cool laid back guy ---------------- all talk and no action
very handsome -------------------- can dine with him without losing appetite
a total gentleman ------------------- 2 minute tops
wonderful time --------------------- my pussy didn't feel a thing

And since everybody seems to have a boyfriend, that will be next.

100 for a handjob or a blowjob? It's one of those little things in that blog that I find strange. Not in New York or anywhere else. 150 for the full package sounds mainstream for Craig's Lists, but 200 for the hour seems too weak.

Let's assume that a girl charges 150 for half hour. Once in a blue moon some girls may charge 320 or 350 for an hour. Some smart guys will insist on booking two half hours instead of one hour. But in reality those girls aren't that stupid and those guys aren't that smart. The price structure reflects the pain of these girls in facing clients for the full hour. Avoid.

Back to story. If a girl want to say she's busy, she would charge exactly 300 for one hour. Or a little discount say 280 or down to 250 to reflect the reduced overhead. Charging extra 50 for half an hour of company seems so cheap. (Specials to regulars at slow times are different.)

With reference to 150 for half hour or one shot, 100 for a blowjob seems right? Not. While you can find plenty of 150 offers but 100 blowjobs are hard to find. Many girls don't offer half hours because they are supposed to get better clients. If you offer 100 for a blowjob, you are getting those clients who don't have 150 to spend. Though it's not unheard of for 100 blowjob. Some super hot streetwalkers who aren't interested in exercising their pussy and who are very picky about their clients, may offer a 100 blowjob to those that look right. It's the most expensive blowjob in the world. Expensive call girls don't offer just a blowjob except for special cases. Clients aren't looking for a blowjob either, except for special cases. For those who don't have 150, 100 is too expensive.

For the same analysis, a 100 handjob will be the most expensive in the universe! (Except for rip-off artists of course.)

So I wonder being independent doesn't make sense all the time for everybody. Clueless? For that blogger in question, she doesn't have a germ induced obsessive-compulsive disorder. Clients can cum all over her, and in her mouth too. I think she charges too little in that respect.

And if you are so prone to making a serious of wrong decisions and back yourself into a corner, it could be better to work for someone else, or have some partners. Or at least hire two gardeners to drive you around and sit at the parking lot.

Also, emailing back and forth to find clients in Craig's list is crazy. It's worth the time if you are looking for something big, those clients who think they are looking for non-pros and are willing to pay for it. She isn't looking for that. The other guys are low-ballers, who want to negotiate discounts, and want to demand precisely what they want. The other others are too good looking to pay the full price just as everybody else. Girls who emails are usually those who can't compete on pictures.

On the other hand, she may know something that I don't, which is not a surprise.

Thanks James for playing. Who's next? How about the call girl turning into a DOM? I'm totally not surprised! I'll vote for her as the most likely to succeed.

The Whoremonger, aka James, has a great sense of humor. He has to have from now on. British women are unattractive according to him. If he has his way, all the over weight women and those with eating disorders in Dominican Republic will be rounded up and deported to Haiti.

James is very picky about bloggers' English, which must be the result of frustration having no English spoken to him. If he is in charge of foreign policy, expensive prostitutes costing hundreds of dollars will be banned, and the money saved will turn into foreign aid to help single mothers and their kids. Sending voluntary troops to entertain will be part of the package.

James is probably an English language consultant over there, but that didn't stop him from selling in his spare time for commission, some phone cards and the crappy camcorder. You know, camcorder is just like penis. Size is everything. If the len is small, the picture will be grainy indoors and unwatchable at low light.

Never mind the women, I like my sidewalks paved! I can't get into the mood walking around potholes, uneven and dusty pathways. California concrete is OK. Centuries old cobble stone as in Guildford and other high streets are romantic. A Venetian port under star light is grand.

Similarly, I like refined women, be it superficial. But it doesn't necessarily mean makeup. If we meet early after lunch, Chanel liked to see me without any makeup on, so I couldn't possibly mess anything up on her face. When she upsets me, she would see me eye to eye, nose almost touching, not apologizing, but as if telling me, "I'm so pretty without makeup, I'm so worth it, and you are going to call me again in a few weeks". I'm had no problem with her not making up, until she arrived with beautiful makeup on and sexy dresses. I was so jealous because I was sure that she was going somewhere important after me. So she promised me to make up and look beautiful for me too. But the problem was, she complained that those makeup that I prefer, as if no makeup had been done, are expensive. I lifted her makeup better than any cleanser, so all the hard work will only last for an hour and she had to reapply everything all over again. So the compromise was for her to put on some powder instead.

I'm turned on by her well trimmed eye brows. Fine long hair flowing weightlessly. I like manicure and pedicure, even all natural nails, which I preferred. High heels, or designer slippers.

Do you smell fish?

For the first time, I have doubts about a blog, this blog. I may be totally wrong. The money doesn't sound right. Or everything is too right that I can write that. Most of it can be considered male fantasy. I did read every post and put some to gender test with simple word counting. The majority of entries are female, with some males. The femaleness isn't overwhelming. For comparison, my best long pieces are females too.

OK, it's all trivial small things, the biggest is perhaps she linked Whoremonger but not me!

Quote of the day

Gillette on sex:

I'm bored

This is Shiona, a porn star/model, whose pictures are occasionally borrowed to appear on Craig's List.

One for the senses

A festive sound file to share. But I'll keep the video to myself.

My Valentine Gift

I can't Google any decent looking Valentine widgets for blogs that are compatible with IE6 IE7 and firefox. So this is a simple one for fellow bloggers:

The secret of luxury travel

is to gate crash an academic xxx conference in a half corrupted developing country! This combination is a dying breed so hurry up when you can.

I have read enough playmates' and players' luxury and not so luxury travel blogs. Here's my turn to write once.

It's a sort of gate crash as I have nothing to do with xxx other than a tourist. You have to know somebody to know that such good deal exists, as the "conference" are highly subsidized. The best is to find some sponsors to further write off some of the travel and conference fees for you and your accompanying spouse. Or simple get round some of it.

The conference organizer is some sort of ministry of xxx. Who can top that? The Head wants to throw a party for his own people with the excuse. He is a powerful man controlling the most lucrative ministries. Maybe he wasn't throwing a party. But somehow he was coming, so everybody tried to impress him with their resources and budgets.

Everybody lived in the brand new 5 star luxury hotel in town. I think the hotel was called upon to serve the country as no modest academics in the developed world would get those travel expenses approved. I doubt if there's any other decent hotel in town, as there was no beach resort there. But the pool with waterfalls brought a Mirage in Vegas feel. At first the staff were hunger for 5 star tips. But after the ministry put a big banner at the hotel front to welcome us guests, all staff knew who we were and felt it was an honor to serve us, even without tips. When I needed a taxi, they would call a street taxi for me, instead of the hotel taxis charged 5 star prices.

There were two gorgeous female staff looking after the male (and female) changing room for the pools and fitness center. One was fitness model material, early twenties, wearing tight vest and short, some sort of aerobic outfit. The other was late twenties, more like a beauty technician. At least one of them were available for massage! Not on them you silly. They would just walk into the changing room and massage you on the bench. I was tempted as the changing room was empty. They also did outcalls to your rooms! But unfortunately I brought my own - a 'friend". But I bet you won't get any serious extras unless you offer them enough to risk being fired.

The conference was held in a university theater built like a mini Albert Hall. The less than 100 attendee from all over the world were put in the middle, a few famous people passed their sell by date, surrounded by a full house of students watching from every available seat, including up there in the box seats. It took the organizers Disney parking lot style operations to bring in bus loads of university students from all over the country, to time share the available seats. At least they are supposed to look like U students. Even the lunch boxes to feed those students was a logistic challenge. But I was sure nobody was interested in the proceedings.

I did appeared for receptions and orientations, and did my part, looking good in a white linen shirt and a light colored linen suit. They had lots of good student photographers taking pictures of everybody like paparazzi. I had one picture taken like walking out of the Oscar's with my friend. Pictures were sold for cost only.

The best was of course the freebies that came with the conference. The dinner was outdoors with about a hundred kiosks, each with different unique styles of gorgeous food representing all over the country. The smell of exotic barbecue filled the air. But I didn't manage to eat anything. Because there was a fashion show! They flew in enough local top models to last the evening. That was a good enough excuse to flood the place with gorgeous models who had to stay the night at least. Though the Head was well known for not liking women.

We were basically standing right next to the catwalk to have a better look than sitting down. The Organizer, a close assistance to the Head, would tell a small circle of us friends to watch carefully. She knew some of the models and knew who would be available. Available probably meant single and looking. Or it might mean not yet taken up by the VIP's. That's sad as I had a friend with me. There was this young single American architect, who could just be a student studying architecture who didn't want to go home, took up the offer seriously. But that didn't stop him from hitting on my friend first. I let him talk a bit, boosting my ego. See, few came here for the tourism conference. Typically there were a lot more people at the night activities than the day. There were few lights apart from the stage. All the paths were candle lit, all the way back to the hotel, with different traditional musicians along the way.

There was an ancient dance show in a big impressive outdoor theater in ancient settings. It was not a show for the average tourists. All the glamorous costumes were in meticulous conditions. And of course the dancers were all model materials. The next day, when we left on a tour bus, from afar I could see that workers were pulling down a large stage and surrounding structures. No one bordered about it, or no one in the know was willing to talk about it. I over heard some locals saying that it's a one-night theater. I think I was right. They built the whole theater and stage with a World Heritage site as the backdrop. And since they weren't supposed to do that to a World Heritage site, they pulled it down the next day after the show.

When we weren't at the conference, the excursions include a day trip up the xxx, because my friend wanted to. So we hired a jeep. I insisted on examining the insurance cover. There were none. The guy reluctantly brought out some insurance policies, but the cover was so laughable that we went unprotected. Less than 10 mins after we left the hotel, I got trapped between two trucks, cut off by one of them and left a big dent on my jeep. So I entered into drag racing mode and we were OK since. The good thing was, we did not need to pay for the damage. Otherwise the rental guy in the hotel would have no business. When we needed a jeep again, he just avoided the same company that supplied our jeep last time.

The scenery was beautiful as we go higher up. At the xxx there was a large xxx lake. There was a traditional boat to sight see but it would take forever. Someone offered us a speed boat tour. They raised a small speed boat from under the water! Later we knew that those guys offering the speed boat wasn't in good terms with the other guys, so they need to hide the boat when not in use. After a quick and thorough tour we went back down. We were just on time for a small outdoor theater production after dark, again dance/drama in ancient costumes. Perfect for resting tired legs.

With the conference behind us, I flew with my friend to a nearby world famous beach resort. After all, it's summer. The night life was rich and concentrated behind one of the main beaches, with endless restaurants, bars and pubs. It was a bit like Jerusalem with all dominations - though not of faith but a variety of eating and drinking places. There were a lot of young backpackers to meet, as in European hostels. There were also plenty of mainstream tourists leaving their resort hotels once a while. It was a high energy place.

Soon I decided to move on to an island nearby so there couldn't be much things to do, except for lying on the beach or lying in bed. Unfortunately all sorts of water sports were available, water parachuting, jets, banana float rides etc. Worst of all, my friend saw some boats waiting on the beach and she wanted to charter one. It was a long trip to some remote islands. In the middle of nowhere the boat stopped for a visit of some rare corals. So we dipped in the water a bit, snorkeled a bit, and looked down 20 feet at the corals through the crystal waters. At the end nobody was sure which were the rare ones.

When we arrived at the remote island, a few shy, naked or semi naked woman were alerted, watched us for a while, smiled with approval, and then laid back down to enjoy their sun bath. Then we occupied part of the island and did nothing much other than snorkeling around the beautiful and plentiful corals by the beach.

On the way back, all hell broke loose. The boat was shooting like an arrow below the wave tops. We were all wet either because of the rain storm or the waves. The wooden boat was very streamlined and tough, which looked good, but I didn't know about the engine, which was at top speed to overcome the waves. Then I knew where approximately we were, where ferries sank and loads of people died.

It was an exhausting trip, including the indoor activities that I can't write about.

Wet dreams

Water water everywhere. It was raining today. I'm drinking tea. If I close my eyes, I would be thinking about all the water in a swimming pool. Damn it. Well, if you can't fight it ...

My buddy's girlfriend trusted me with her little sister. As teenagers I took her to a water theme park for a date. That was a mistake. Whenever we lineup for some water rides, a few little boys would lineup behind us. We were sure that a little boy about ten had a crush on her, following right behind us all the time. She was very pretty, in a tight one piece swim suit. Her body was well developed yet she was a little spinner retaining an innocent look. Both wet and dry, she was a bomb. I was wearing a speedo, drooling over her all day long. That was the mistake.

What could you do in a busy water theme park?! At last we came across a dead end corner. There was a fountain there where the water was at waist height. Immediately I dragged her into the corner, blocked from view by the fountain.

I held her in the water, one arm across her shoulder and the other across her legs. I looked at her eyes in total lust. She looked down at my chest anticipating. I kissed her. It was electrifying. She was totally relaxed as if she had just been stunned. Being in part of the fountain, water kept rushing up fiercely, supporting her body. So my other hand was free to caress her body. Water that gone up came down hard on us, all over us. My hands were all over her body. Then we held each other tight kneeling down, partially hide in the water so as not to attract attention. I let her feel my bursting speedo between her legs. Then I grabbed her bottom hard and pressed hard against my body.

My lips never left hers as if they were all magnets. But I kept my eyes open watching her back, to see if somebody was watching us. I just hoped that she was doing the same. I could see a man walked into the corner, surprised, and then pulled back a little to hide himself. He was watching, perhaps enjoying himself as well as making sure that there were no criminal activities. But he couldn't watch long without being obvious. So we carried on.

But damn. How do you do it in water? It's difficult enough to pee!

The heavenly hand

I follow every instruction from my Goddess, deep breathing in and out, in and out, while she rubbed me down there. All of a sudden I lost my breathing rhythm and gasped for air big time. I didn't have trouble breathing but sure it looked scary to her. She immediately took me to another room without scented candles, or were they incenses? There must be something not ordinary in them.

Shortly I recovered and she carried on her job. I enjoyed it. I got her undivided attention for an hour. For a massage I usually go into a trance by myself or just fall asleep. For her service she had to talk me through everything and I had to give her feedback, totally interactive. But it felt too clinical. I was hard for a short while and then became totally limp. I should have told her to stop but I didn't want to leave empty handed, hers. She doubled her effort. Finally I did it but it was torture. I never came near any goddess since.

Do I want to last long and have profound orgasm? Oh yes. Do I believe in Tantra, may be. I don't take drugs because the extra highs don't worth the consequences. More importantly, those highs are not "real" to me. It seems like a bit of virtual reality, cheating yourself. Similarly for alcohol, I enjoy it as the best drink accompanying food. I do lost a bit of inhibition with it. But I don't want to let lose of myself through alcohol, I want to let go by myself, I want to be in control.

I know Tantra is different, it's not material but more like spiritual. But I last long enough and my orgasms are pretty good. I have partners for mutual enjoyment, and I also pick partners for my sole enjoyment. Like work, I have to pick battles to fight, but Tantra isn't one of it.

My kind of technique is, do it like teens from time to time, with a good diet and plenty of beauty sleep, I can become invincible. I was in that state once when a girl tested me by trying to blow me to completion. She took failure gracefully. Other times, I was being over estimated, exploding all over the opponent.

Up with the goddesses

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Down the dungeon

Despite that I'm rather simple nowadays, I still came across as this and that.

It must be one of those good old moments: that I had piles of money but didn't know how to burn it. I knew people who lost a boat that he never had, by sitting and did nothing. Those who did something with their 401k's, it's not uncommon to lose half of it. Even if you paid down your mortgage, the meager few percent didn't make up the devaluation in dollar. So I burnt it on hookers, brilliant.

But this time it really wasn't hookers, I was bored a bit. LA has a few well known dungeons and how could I not give them a visit? Imagine being in a torture chamber, or better still, a classroom? I would have gone a long time ago if I could find a good looking submissive. Dominas are much more attractive, but I have no interest being pushed around. Natasha looked good enough. How could I go wrong with her legs? But I knew there must be some catch. I knew she was a bit older, but I didn't know how old. And I doubt if there would be any sex involved. If sex was included, it would be a brothel wide open for business. But still, there are plenty of establishments getting away with sex. Without better things to do I went there anyway.

The dungeon was in North Hollywood. The neighborhood looked like a normal suburb, big houses and apartments with surrounding green lawns, except that all structures were surrounded with temporary metal fences, like those in a building site. The atmosphere thickens - a decadent house surrounded by metal fences! The number in the address might be included in an apartment complex, but no apartment with that number exited. So I began looking around for an address with a secret number. You know, those streets with, say, only number 19 missing. Sometimes 19 never existed or demolished, and some con artist took advantage of that. Sometimes 19 turns up in the most unexpected location, where the owner don't want you to find. Intriguing!

That was not my day. I exchanged the position of two digits in the address. I found out when I called them in desperation. It was a strange location. It was a cheap industrial area by the freeway. The dungeon shared a flat square structure with a car mechanics workshop next door.

The receptionist was a good looking girl, a bit goth, in some minor BDSM outfit, who talked as if she's a Dom. Natasha was available and I booked her for half an hour. They didn't ask what theme room I needed, and put me into the default common room, which had bits of everything.

Natasha didn't disappoint. She looked just like her pictures, especially her legs. She was very tall, beautiful face, nice body frame, nice shoulders, slender curves. But the catch was, she was older. Her body was soft to the touch, and her skin felt a bit weathered. But nothing unpleasant.

I though all the big and small toys in the room would be quite fun. The room looked tidy, but I could see that Natasha treated everything as poisoned. She wouldn't touch anything bare without wiping it first. She also brought her own toys in a plastic bag - ping pong ball bat, whip, etc.

She knew I'm a virgin in BDSM. She was patient, eager to please so I would come back for more. Without much thought, I tied her hands up on a horizontal beam hanging down from the ceilings. She was like being tied up on a cross, but in fact only her hands were tied, and stood up on her own.

The rules were very complicated. I didn't know if she made it up to suit herself, or those rules were devised by lawyers to overcome all the Cali penal codes. I could strip her naked of course, and I could be naked. I could touch her anywhere except for her kitty. The same for my penis. I could not use my mouth. So I did what a man would do to a woman tied up on a cross, but without violating the rules. I spanked her too. But I wasn't keen on using her bat and whip. I prefer bare hands. But usually after a smack or two I will sooth the pain with my lips. This time I couldn't and I lost interest in more spanking.

At the end I asked for a handjob. Even if I were willing to spend the money, finding someone quick from there would be a problem. She said she couldn't do it. I made sure that she got enough motivation to do it if she could. Just when I was about to do it myself, she said there's the option of a foot job. Did I say the rules were complicated? So that was the only time I got a foot job. The only time I went to a foot fetish session I didn't get it, I upgraded to something else.

It was fun. A few images came up in my head, including a classroom with some students. But perhaps, I should burn my money in real hookers instead.

The only eternity is change

This is just what I needed to detour into careers. Entrepreneurship includes adaptation and exit strategies. Nokia once sold toilet papers, rubber tires and TV's. As long as you know your product has a limited life cycle, the business plan of hooking doesn't look that bad. For the few good points, high dollar, quick money, little if any setup fee and stocking fee. You can build up a very nice reserve and have plenty of time to think of the next business.

Many OB doctors quit because they are probably the most sued. Some quit when it's not worthwhile to pay the insurance premiums. Other new ones soldier on until they simply cannot afford the premiums. My financial adviser quited medical school to become a stock broker, before he became a financial adviser. Every time I went to that building of financial services, I saw somebody holding an office plant on their hands - signs of farewell.

I have a theory. After years of education and professional training, it's not likely for an employee to abandon ship when they should. This is more important to employers than the knowledge you have.

But what do I know? My father saw the end of a family empire of entrepreneurs, through no fault of his own. He started from zero. He led a modest life but helped many relatives in need. He never worked for anybody else, but he taught me no shit about entrepreneurship. He thought getting a job was easy, but he could tell me nothing about corporate survival either.

My first job is remotely like PR: as long as you produce some good firework for the money, nobody cares what you actually do. My first real job gave me a shock. I found the usual: everybody reached their level of incompetence, making stupid decisions. That is a global company, which turned out to be the best company that I worked for so far. The problem is more complicated. At a corner of the globe, I happened to know 110% of the 1% that they are lacking. Sometimes you need to kill it before you can cure it. But no one will believe a new guy and make that sort of decision. To add insult to injury, I was supposed to dedicate myself to fix it if any problems turn up along the way.

I think the right way to do things is to find a good company, find a good mentor who you are supposed to take his/her place when he/her gets promoted. Once you are in the establishment, keep your boss getting promoted, or find some other route if that's faster for you. Of course I wasn't thinking any of it. I thought I should be in charge.

For me the decision is simple. Could I wait up to a couple of years, at best to make something that I'm not proud of? At worse I was the guy to blame. I couldn't say I told you so because then I would be not persistent enough. And in my last job, it's get ahead or die. I would never dream of waiting years for all others to learn what I have learned. I left.

I kept getting more money but things got worse. I think I build up enough reputation. Copernicus's of the world would make sure that the Galileo's got to see the problem. Most of the time I didn't even know who ducked the problem. I was not allowed not to have an opinion. They only needed to make the decision.

One day the top guy in charge of the project invited me to meet with the consultants. The pre-meeting documents looked promising. But they tried to do a bait and switch on me. What they were going to do wasn't that on the document. It's the same dead end. Soon we learned that the top guy went to become a Vice Chancellor of a University. The rest of us got through another acquisition.

Once I didn't understand why those guys fight like Gladiators over a problem, some melodrama to me. Then one day my boss told me not to bother. The whole center were cut off. Then I wondered again who passed the shit onto me and why.

Patience goes a long way if you have it.

Copernicus vs Galileo

They are two out of three of the most influential Acquarians, who are the most talented people of the Zodiac.

Copernicus developed the model that the Sun is at the center of the universe instead of the earth. With his model, the copulation of the positions of the planets became simple. His peers read about his works, but since he was in the establishment, a man of the Church, he waited until his death to publish his work. The preface of his book, which probably wasn't written by him, stressed that the model was something like a mathematical concept to simplify computations, which does not necessarily represent the reality.

Galileo has little to do with the model except that his technological improvements in optics allow him to observe the planets and prove that Copernicus is right. His persecution by the Church can be avoided. But I think he's arrogant, miscalculated, impatient and simply cannot be flexible about the truth.

Well, if you are still hanging on, you must be courtesan material, or for guys you are very much in touch with your inner power and wisdom.

If I were to sell my body ...

I would dye my hair Scandinavian blond and go to Asia, or put on a black straight wig and go to Scandinavia, with even higher impact I was told.

Let's say Asia. If I can leave anytime with a foreign passport and I don't owe anybody any money, I will be pretty immune from gangs and corruptions.

I'll keep a day job that is good for my hooker resume. I can afford to wait for the best offers.

I'll apply to join the Pearl Elite. At that part of the world I will be a monopoly. I'll be getting referrals from all the other pearls who have clients doing business over there.

Or I'll look for a fancy international agency, whether they have agents over there or not.

If I am going the independent route, I'll play the non-professional card, charging a fee that the top tier professionals would bark at. My down to earth looks will be a great advantage - girl next door, or sexy office admin. I'll make the most of my 3G phone, IM my potential clients without disclosing my phone number. I will even demand them to appear on video as a screening process. Or if I see at a distance that they are too fat or too ugly, I'll tell them to go home. I'll also maintain the illusion that I will go out with them for movie and dinner if I like them. And if I ever do, I will make sure that the guy post it on the internet.

Once I called up a part-time model on my foreign trip. Either they claim to be 18, 19 year old students, or 20 something models. She's not available and the same for most of her friends at the time. There's a friend Rainbow who can come, 20 something. There's no further description and that this girl demand a taxi fee if I do not want her. Even though she lowered my expectation a lot on the phone, I went ahead with it as I didn't have that much window of opportunity. Rainbow didn't have any makeup on, and she looked as if she never did. Plain hair style, plain jeans and T-shirt. I joked that if her mother didn't born her that tall, 5'7, she looked like a kid. She asked what her friend told me about her. I said her friend told me that she's 20 something and that's all. It seemed that Rainbow was going to defend herself, that she wasn't 20 something yet. But she could only manage, "almost, you can say that", almost unintelligible. I think she's 21. She's a far cry from "hot" and "model material". Or maybe she is, but I didn't think of it that way. She has a slender body that will likely not disappoint. She isn't particularly pretty or cute. But there's something about her, one of a kind attractiveness, that I had to have her right there. So we held hands and walked to the hotel. On the way, I asked her price because I forgot. She naively said she didn't know and consulted her friend over the phone. Her friend of course punished me for that. The price was set symbolically a little lower than that of her friend, a part-time model. I could have gotten Rainbow cheaper, because I could sense her lack of confidence. But still, her price would be higher than the top dog on the local internet.

The most promising may be the top hostess clubs. Japan has exclusive clubs with all foreign hostess, from countries such as Britain, Australia, etc, with some ex-flight attendants. Most affluent cities have high end clubs, some of which are listed on the local stock exchanges. The top clubs often have some blonds on offer. In many clubs, including the top clubs, hostess are allowed not to offer sex, and many clients want it that way. Of course you can offer sex, to the best bidder discreetly. I don't even need to take cash. I'll show my most loyal clients my empty flat and he will fill it with furniture. I'll take them to the most expensive shops and they will get everything that I need and them some. I can always return the excess for cash. I'll keep the jeweleries though. He who spent enough can go to bed with me. If anybody complains of not getting laid, I'll threaten to return all their gifts to them.

Interesting thought. Thanks Kitty for the inspiration.

I was all ready to go out on a Friday afternoon break. I trimmed my bush and all that. I was so sure - Cat announced a couple of days in advance that she would be back. I revolted my decision that I would not see Laura again. I like her character and she's available.

Aviance came back unexpectedly. I was about to send her several of my long shot references, before I noticed that she didn't offer her $300 specials anymore. For the "regular" price I have a lot more choices and I won't limit myself to someone close by. At least I don't need to apply and lineup. And since I'm not going to see her every other week for that price, it doesn't make much difference if I double her price and see someone better once a while. For a further little more I can take Chanel to Vegas. She loves gambling so much that I think I should charge her more for the driving.

Another new girl, who I thought was going to check out on Friday morning, posted that she would be in until 5 pm. I sent her a private mail and then called. No response as expected. Today she posted a picture of her face. I was so lucky. She must be doing this because too many guys U-turned at the door.

So I followed my original plan and called Cat. I gave up altogether at the seventh ring. Maybe I shouldn't treat her as a local. I miss Chanel; most of the time she would pick up the phone. I knew the best time to call her. If not I will let the phone ring 3 or 4 times. She would call me back shortly. Sometimes she would call me back after lunch with friends or family. If she's totally not available she would call back within at most a few hours to chat.

I didn't call Laura. There's no rush. She will be there when I need her some other day - a contradiction of sort. I fired up my DVR instead and watched TV instead.

Today TER released 11 reviews in my area. One advertised in city-source charging much more than $300. One advertised in city-vibe. Most certainly it's a dubious agency or brothel or some sort. For the other nine, most advertise in Craig's List, with a few in the free city-vibe classified. Somehow the CL spams get propagated everywhere. Imagine that the TER monkeys have to devote most of their screening effort on CL reviews, which you can get elsewhere for free.

My porn name is something like Bruce Francisco, how boring. I think I'm as boring as many Californians, who name their pets after movie stars, and live on streets named after saints.

What not to wear

Stockings. Not in pictures unless you have some others with bare legs. Corsets. Jeans.

Please don't send a model in your place to take verified pictures.

Scrap your old pictures!

Too often ladies keep all their professionally taken pictures in their online galleries, say one collection per year. I really don't want to know how you looked before, no matter how gracefully you age.

I always want to rant to my heart's desire about pictures. Firstly, use a professional photographer who also has experience in taking escort pictures - an award wining picture doesn't mean a thing if you do not know what the clients want to see. You don't need to take pictures by yourself using a cell phone camera to get real pictures.

Ideally, three pictures are enough, front, back, and side. If you are not symmetrical, maybe the other side too. All pictures should be taken from head to toe with natural standing postures, which is how most people look at other people. The resolution should be high enough to see some skin textures or complexion. Completely nude pictures are always welcomed - a good photographer can make it as artistic as anything else. Make sure the skin colors are all the same, and if you wear anything, wear the same thing in all the pictures.

No picture cocktails please! You may love to pick the best pictures from your family photo album to display, to cover all the client base. But since women can look totally different the next day, nobody will have a clue what they will end up with. Stick on a single image of you to project. Same hair style, same makeup, same makeover.

You may want to display more than a few pictures, as in a beauty pageant, with elegant evening dress, causal wear, bikini, lingerie and nothing. Or, cheerleader, nurse, vinyl, etc. That's OK but make sure that it looks like the same you in all the pictures - preferably on the same studio session, or at least with same hair color and style.

Some ladies presented only one impossibly attractive picture, which made me pick up the phone at once. I know there may well be some trickery in the picture but I am willing to take the risk. This will not work if there is one more picture, even taken at a slightly different angle. The more you look, the less likely you will develop a crush.

Typical studio background should not be used. The background should contain some focused details, so it's not easy to do post editing. There should be some color as the reference points, so the color distortion due to studio lighting and post editing can easily be detected. How about standing in front of a video test color chart?

No black and whites please! The picture will be very good looking, but I don't know about you.

I understand if you don't want to show your face. Indeed think twice about showing your face. I still have Chanel's first ever Internet pictures and videos. If you hide your face please use good digital techniques. Don't make yourself ugly or even scary.

If you don't show your face in your pictures, there is a common trick to show that it's you in the pictures. Show a unique tattoo or piercing. Without that, you can make love to the lady all night long, but still not sure if the pictures are hers. Maybe for this reason, I like to play doctor and dermatologist doing close examinations. I can tolerate a thumb sized pretty colorful tattoo, and a small belly button piercing.

Don't apply oil to your skin, or take wet pictures. It's too obvious that you are hiding something. One way to prove that your picture is 100% real is to wear a tight bra and then show off the resulting bra lines. Showing off your lovely freckles for example has the same effect.

It may not be well known, that riding on the often seen Cityvibe wooden horse makes your legs look longer by several inches. So don't try postures too original. For example, twisting your waist other than a little means that you have kids. Lying down or leaning means your boobs are falling down. Upside down means you are ugly. Sitting down means you are short or your legs are.

And don't cut off your feet in your pictures. Bare or sandals instead of shoes. I did see one girl that I doubted if she had ten toes.