Last week someone told me what I already knew, that he was a compulsive liar. I asked for 5 minutes of truth. Nope, I was asking for too much. He shared, in the agreed upon 30 seconds of honesty, that he wouldn’t know any other way to be. Why believe a liar? He confirmed what I already knew.Caroleena, after wresting an admission from a known deceiver
NO more standing on the street, I could now use the internet to meet guys from the comfort of my own home. Easy-Peasy. Right?
“Casual”A word I often saw in the statements thatof guys seeking women and vice versa. The term seemed relevant to me. I was wrong. “Casual” was exactly what I wanted to avoid.
I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I didn’t know that I didn’t know the meaning of the word “casual” on dating sites.
“Casual” means the guys won’t pay, don’t ask, and if you do ask you may be threatened with bodily harm for wasting a guy’s time. And no, he won’t pay if he arrives and sees you in your overwhelming sexiness bc not paying is a specific point of pride indicated by the word “casual.”
Whoops, sorry!Caroleena, after seeking clients on a casual dating site like aff.
I saw that something called a VSCO Girl is big on social media. I am not up on the latest trends and slang that defined said trends. I consulted Urban dictionaries, Wikipedia, other sources. In a nutshell, if a young female wants to have this popular look there is a list of items she must possess, makeup stile she must embrace, a bunch of rules to follow. A lot of effort must go into appearing to look effortlessly natural. Does anyone else see the irony here. Maybe I am not popular on social media, besides not knowing how to properly utilize the technology, is because I am natural. I am just me. Maybe that’s my problem, why I have never been popular. I don’t mirror others to copy them or even approximate what others do. In my research about how to win friends and influence people I constantly read about the need to fit in and show you care about fitting in. As long as I simply say what I think, and tell my unvarnished memories of the forbidden world of downtown Honolulu drug addicted sex workers, I will never make it big. I got breast implants because I never knew what it was like to have cleavage. I want to know what it’s like to be popular. I want to be a former pariah.
Join Online Community–Sex Related?
I got kicked off USASexguide.nl for being an opinionated female inserting herself into an all male world where guys can freely talk about providers and advise other guys about what ptoviderd to see or not see. I understand the site administrator’s decision to kick me off, now, bc guys speak differently when they feel like only male ears can hear. By making my presence known on the Hawaii opinion/argue thread called “Like Beef Lolo”I was cutting off a valuable source of info by tainting the group with my femininity.
I can’t be a VSCO girl bc they seem young and the hairstyle of choice is loose flowing wavy hair, and I don’t know if that is intentional code for “white” but that description seems like a go-away message to me. Where are the women and men like me, those interested, for whatever reason, in sex workers, addiction, incarceration, funny intimate stories, and political opinions?
I thought I was writing about the things people think but don’t say, only to find that people really aren’t like me and they don’t say what I do bc they’re not thinking similar thoughts. Oh.Caroleena, the Expert Escort
What is my version of the VSCO girl (I need to look up how to pronounce that term.)? Who can I be around who will accept me for my natural self? Or maybe, like the trend to look “natural,” everyone is putting on an effortful front? To fit in somewhere, anywhere, what am I willing to do to participate without standing out?
There are surprising rules to being gay
I thought that any two women and any two men could get together and form a gay couple. But that is not the case. From what I have seen one person plays the role of the man and one plays the role of the woman. When I was at WCCC (the Women’s Community Correctional Center on Oahu) for the possession charge, their were
“butchies” who looked like guys. They referred to themselves as “he”and so did the other inmates and staff. Other names included, “boy,” “uncle,” “son,” “brother.” When inmates were pat searched or strip searched, the butchie guards did the butchie inmates, when staffing permitted the division of labor accordingly. If a femme and a butchie were in a strip search, as searcher or searchee, it was thought of as the opposite sex having a chance to look at what they should not see, hence a disrespectful occurrence. Butchies showered at 8:30 p.m. so the “girls” did not see their bodies. I once went into the bathroom at 8:30 and I “got scoldings.” One of the “girls” rushed in the bathroom to tell me to get out. She confronted me with”
What were you doing in the bathroom? Didn’t you see my uncle in there?”An outraged inmate correcting me when I entered the bathroom during butchie shower time.
I knew that there was a subculture that I had to respect, but I could not help but see the confusion that was inherent in declaring a person a gender that a person did not embody:
Your Uncle? How could that be your uncle when I just saw her ask the ACO (Adult Correctional Officer/Guard) for a maxi pad?My exasperated response at the unfair notion that I should know that someone was not a woman just because she was in a woman’s prison
So if a gay couple has one person in the “female” role and one person in the “male” role, and that is considered the only normal way to be gay, then isn’t that the same as saying the only way to have a normal relationship is to use the heterosexual model no matter the gender of the people in the relationship. It seems like a bit of a rejection of the homosexual way of life by the very people engaged in it. Or do I misunderstand what I have seen?
The reason I am grateful and mystified that anyone reads my blog is, had I not gone down this path, I would never have thought an x-streetwalker would have anything to say that would enlighten me. I would have dismissed such a person so quickly I wouldn’t have noticed I was doing it. I would have remained completely judgmental and unsympathetic bc I would not have had the need to extend understanding. However, after finding myself needing to receive understanding, I am open to learning about people I would have written off. For one example, how does a rapist, or should I say someone who has committed rape, come to exist? What is it like to struggle with the violence within one’s self towards the opposite sex–if there is a struggle. I would notify have sought such answers and since I had no questions I would’ve imagined myself enlightened. No, I would never have read my blog, back in the days before blogs existed. I am touched that you do read my words. You’ve reached the end of this long passage of after all!.
The Cleavage Diaries of a Respectable X-Hooker is an experiment in the best ways to deliver a message in YouTube. Every message will feature s different way to present cleavage, which was something I always wanted but only received recently. I received feedback that I’m not showing it to it’s best advantage so this YouTube Video will begin the change in procedures. https://youtu.be/d2mm4feIjIM
X-Hooker Life Hacks: the world’s newest every day wisdom from the world’s oldest profession. Find out what I’ve learned that you need to know.
Reaching your goals: the only thing standing between you and perfection is oppressively high standards. If you want to be more satisfied with yourself, if you want to start feeling like a winner, redefine success for yourself. Stop bring so hard on yourself and start appreciating what you have achieved by declaring your accomplishments “enough.” For example, I wanted to be successful by making my blog go viral. This outcome has not come to fruition yet and I have felt frustrated. Now, I have decided that having a blog that another person voluntarily reads, is success. Yes, I can do more, but not because I am dissatisfied. Not to rectify a failure. But to expand my existing success. And I quite literally breathe more fully and deeply as the sense of satisfaction spreads within me.
People have asked this question about me and have put this question directly to me. What happened to make me so disagreeable. Not all the time of course, but enough of the time to be notable. Obviously it’s a long story. But it took a man just a few words in a recent text to succinctly illustrate the kind of treatment that has worn me down… Eroded much of my natural niceness. Nowhere near close to the worst thing I’ve had said to me, somehow, this text sends more than just the literal meaning.
I am trying to find time to see you…so, please don’t tell me your rules, thank you.
A Blog reader who claims he wants to meet but always cancels in spite of my stated standards.
You see what I mean? Now, having read that text, so typical in the spirit of messages I get, you understand how I got to be so mean.
Prostitution taught me why matchmaker services can’t always work. Remember, I get to see people’s real selves because no one has to impress me.
I was talking to a blog fan (wow, a fan!). I said prostitutes are like cats. I was about to say “because cats and prostitutes are beings that people can mistreat without incurring the wrath of society. People look the other way, but a puppy abuser would get their attention and wrath.” But before I could get the chance the fan said “why are cats and hookers alike? Because they both go to anyone?” In fact, it’s not true that we both go to anyone, and I know about cats too. But what was most interesting was, in a later conversation revealed the fan was unaware of the contempt in his tone. We can learn about people if we pay attention to their first reactions, but people are unaware of how they really feel and the way they misremember situations reveals how people don’t know themselves. How can a person accurately fill out a personality questionnaire and be correctly matched with a compatible mate on the basis of their answers? People view themselves as they would like to be and maybe even think they are, but often, are not.
This YouTube video link is a video I secretly recorded that maintains anonymity while showing an integral part of Honolulu’s underground economy. I don’t know about all addicts, but the ones I knew, myself included, traded food stamps for cash. The gamblers were a guaranteed source of cash if you had rice or spam. At the beginning of every month it was common to see people with dollies wheeling bags of rice or cases of spam through the narrow streets of Chinatown to the gamblers “at the river.” The River is actually some sort of drainage for a stream farther up in the mountains and the River along with it’s surrounding areas, is where one can find gambling, drugs, homelessness, and prostitution. The streets by the River are called the Back streets and Hotel Street where the busses run, is the “Front Street.” Chinatown exists within these boundaries. They’ve cleaned it up a whole lot, but when you talk about the criminal element of downtown, you’re talking about the Back Street, the Front Street, and to a lesser extent, Chinatown in the middle. Now here’s a tourist brochure that won’t get distributed by the Tourism Authority!
A man and a woman go into a hotel room alone. The woman said he raped her. People argue, she should have known what he was thinking. Others say a woman can always tell him “no.” The debate rages but it is always one sided in that women have to consider him. He never has to consider her. What did she want at that time? Should he give it to her or not? We are still all about him, even as we advocate for women’s rights, that’s how brainwashed we are.
I was in the parking lot of Walmart on Keeaumoku street. I saw a black man with two little light skinned boys. They were adorable, they looked mixed race, like me. I imagined the man was a single father, spending quality time with his small kids. The older child looked about 6 years old, his brother was probably 4. I smiled at the kids.
“Hooker!” the older one said to me, in the tone of a prized pupil who again had the right answer before the rest of the class.
I was totally surprised, but I recovered quickly enough to try to find out how the kid reached that conclusion. The father had been unlocking the trunk of his car to load the shopping bags. He turned around, surprised to see me standing there, but not too overwhelmed to give me a head to toe visual assessment.
I was very friendly. “Do you know what this little cutie said? He called me a Hooker,” I made my tone lighthearted.
The father was totally surprised “He don’t know what that is!”
Automatically I responded in kind, “I know he don’t!” We laughed it off and I continued into the store.
But, obviously, the kid knew something. What was it? My low cut blouse that showed off my recently acquired cleavage assets? My ever present make-up? Women didn’t usually wear much makeup in Honolulu, unlike Manhattan. Or was it some sort of vibe? Perhaps the child had overheard the dad say something. I wasn’t sure what exactly, made me look like I wanted men to look–and like. But something was giving off the absolutely correct impression. I went into Walmart and bought a looser top.
prostitutes are a problem even when we don’t caught
I got some way harsh feedback when I shared posts to Facebook. A lot of the response was unintelligible to me. Usually I dismiss something that is not well written by conventional standards. But I read and re-read the response and I learned things I didn’t know. The writer pointed out that people like me leave destruction in our wake everywhere we go and are detrimental to the lives of all people we contact, no matter how peripherally. The only way we can pretend to not damage people is when we do not get caught. As long as we are sneaky and our actions are secret, we can lie to ourselves. Wow, that was deep, and that was true. However, I would say that prostitutes can form an outlet for men to have meaningless sex that does not threaten their marriages. I believe that what is good for the goose is good for the gander and women should be able to have their share of meaningless sex. In truth, women do not ordinarily want sex without emotion and are seldom capable of keeping emotion out unless their is money involved because money is a psychological cue to tell the subconscious that this is just a job. Men are capable of meaningless sex and they always desire it, even if they do not indulge. In my opinion, “don’t ask don’t tell” is a policy that can save a marriage as long as both parties are clear about keeping their commitment to each other. Everyone can structure their marriage according to their understanding of what it means to “forsake all others.” Just because society says you have to be with this one person and only this one person until one of you is dead, does not mean couples have to toe the conventional line. If two people make their own rules and those rules are obeyed, then it is not cheating, as far as I am concerned. Am I justifying my behavior? Yes. In my opinion, the justification is valid. I do not think prostitution is wrong, as long as it is voluntary, because remember, sex trafficking and pimping is not the same as being an independent working girl. But I want you to know someting:
it must be said
I do not advocate prostitution as an enjoyable way to make a living. It is not fun to have sex with strange men who may not be serious about bathing. It is easy, certainly easier than food service, on your feet for eight hours in a restaurant. The practice can reinforce any laziness you have within, and you might begin to forget what it means to struggle for something and finally achieve that goal. Prostitution can solidify your anti social tendencies that cause you to reject what the masses value. Prostitution can really drive down that root of bitterness toward men (people you need but don’t want). You must live in the shadows, always presenting yourself as if you are something that you aren’t, and if lying bothers you, prostitution may not be for you.
even prostitution has a plus side
It is always good to have a way to make a living if times get desperate and society as we know it falls apart. Imagine how people in Europe felt during World War II? Life as they knew it was over and I am quite sure people did whatever they had to do to survive. I am glad I have hard core survival skills should the need arise. But there are positives that are not desperation based. Meeting different people is absolutely fascinating. Someone once said to me, “you must not get a high class of guy coming downtown looking for a hooker,” and I had to correct him. Men from all walks of life provide experiences you would not have had otherwise. Flying with a stunt pilot. Shark cage diving. Parasailing. Interisland trips. Exclusive hotels to the worst housing projects like Kuhio Park Terrace were all unanticipated adventures that made each day exciting. I loved hearing life stories and men love talking about themselves. If it weren’t for having to have sex, I would have really enjoyed prostitution.
Caroleena, I read your blog regularly. I was especially interested in your female perspective about penis size. Recently you blogged about penis size. Here are my thoughts on that, from a man’s point of view:
Infatuation with penis size begins in the locker room when boys start getting undressed in the same room and shower in the same room. This is where the penis comparison begins and you discreetly begin comparing sizes. If your penis seems short, you stroke it to make it bigger. I remember in college our coach used to shower with us. He had a penis that was exceptionally long. It just seemed more manly to have a longer or bigger penis.For a man, it’s the underside of the penis right behind the head that fires off the orgasm. The rest of the penis is useless (ha!). So, if you are stroking a man to orgasm, you only need to stroke the top of itMale Fan of expertescort2018.com, August 2019
I am always so grateful when anyone comments. I read a lot of stuff and I hardly ever press like or follow, and almost never comment. I understand that comments indicate a higher level of commitment and interest in the work. I feel like me and you, my dear readers, are in this adventure together. One day this blog will hit a tipping point and a Kardashian will express interest in my work and from then on we will be famous. How often can you get in on the ground floor of something before it goes big? This blog will be my first time riding that train to fame, fortune, and most importantly, my goal of cultural thought change. I want to help initiate paradigm shifting from blame and condemnation about problems like addiction and the things we do to support that addiction to accepting people–not because we are blameless (like the #MeToo movement stresses) but in spite of our mistakes and flaws. I am giving a human face and speaking in a loud voice to people who once would not have thought of me as a human with a mind because we are taught to expect silence from taboo people about taboo topics. I want to help make it easier for people to embrace who they are and this is not easy for me to say publicly just because it is a trite phrase (love yourself!). I am still writing anonymously and I am still not ready to go to my 25th reunion at Harvard with my true life story out there for everyone to see. But I dream!
When I started I couldn’t imagine getting more than three readers and two of those readers were me and my second email address. Now we are in over 50 countries and are coming up on 20,000 views. I know it is not Amazon traffic but considering this site is me expressing my thoughts about sex, prostitution and related topics in a non-pornographic way, I am amazed and totally grateful. Thanks to you all, and especially you, my contributor.
Dangerous? Me? Ok, if you say so!
I wished to write about the “have-nots” as a progressive “have”
Be careful what you wish for because you might just get it. I had a wish when I was a fresh faced 20 year college student in an exclusive east coast Ivy League university. The closest I came to people called “prostitutes” or “escorts” or “hookers” or “providers” was when I took the course entitled “Poverty and the American Underclass.” To be brutally honest with myself and my dear readers I was comfortably ensconced in a cushion of superiority. While studying how the other class lived I never doubted which side of the dividing line between halves belonged to me. Yes all people were created equal but through means not thoroughly understood, people did not remain equal. I was an idealist determined to help the less fortunate. Help, not mingle. Noblesse oblige was my attitude–in other words the noble obligation to help the less fortunate that is the privilege of the enlightened “haves.” My wish was to delve, temporarily, into a world thoroughly apart from my own by securing a position as a prison GED teacher for inmates. How progressive of me! As a secondary agenda I would become one with the people, for the duration of my studies. You know, really get to know them, and later write about the world of the prostitute and similar ne-er-do-wells. I was determined to represent the underclass prostitutes, addicts, homeless as human and very similar to you and me, even if the underclass representatives were unappealing and did not fit palatable stereotypes, such as the notion of a hooker with a heart of gold. I was an accepting person, you see.
I did not just walk their path, I took off my shoes and put on theirs. Now their shoes are my shoes.
I received my wish. I got to know the underclass. I have been able to write about the underclass. I have embraced members of the underclass in my writings even if they were not especially appealing people but instead had many of the faults others assumed they had, such as laziness. I had access to these people. The reason I understood the underclass was because I wasn’t specific enough in my wish to enter their world. I never emphasized to the wish granter that I intended only to visit, not to inhabit. I should have told the cosmic genie that when it came to “us and them” I was always to be considered “us” and the homeless, addicted prostitutes, were always “them.” But the joke was on me because I was granted the best point of view one can have when wishing to understand by walking in another’s shoes. I was given the shoes and I am actually wearing them. And I thought I was only going to step in their footprints! Not make new ones. Ha! There was a truth I was going to learn about their shoes…to be cont…