There is an ironic double standard about the way money is thought of when it is mingled with prostitution.
When it comes to prostitution no one wants people to think:
Ironically, when it comes to prostitution everyone wants people to think:
https://apnews.com/61e1841d62704548b1be4bf8e5efb36d
Check out the above link and you will find a story about the protests on another island, the Big Island.
Some native Hawaiian advocates say a state of the art telescope should not be built on sacred ground. I have no idea about the issues. But what I do know is that protestors had to be ordered by the police time and again to move back. The media points out that some of the protestors are old, as if that should exempt anyone from obeying direct orders. Do I sound extreme when I say that police officers should not have to “show restraint,” when dealing with a crowd that can turn into a mob. One time, that’s how often an order should be given. It’s like being in charge of kids. If you have to tell the child more than once, if you have to coax, repeat yourself, you do not have control of the situation. A potential mob needs to be controlled, professionally, safely, and quickly. After the order is given, the police need to rely on the good training that should effectively facilitate obedience so that no one gets hurt, even if they are elderly. If people are keeping to themselves, people should be left alone, but if people are inserting themselves into the lives of others then the authorities must get involved with whoever won’t live and let live.
Yes, I was appalled to see officers chatting over the body of a dying black man who had been unnecessarily shot and was receiving no help. Officers here on Oahu shot and killed a fleeing prisoner who could have easily been apprehended by the much younger officers as he tried to escape wearing shower slippers. I will never be ok with the unnecessary use of deadly force. But I am also not ok with officers being afraid to act lest they be accused of brutality.
There would be less police brutality if officers quickly used professional force after an order is given once. And only once.
Caroleena, the one time criminal who totally supports strict law enforcement
Why are the words “football” and “hero” paired? Why not fireman and hero or police officer and hero, or advocate and hero? There must be some sort of anniversary with the Simpson case because it is back in the news. For the first time I am questioning an assumption I never questioned before. How else am I brainwashed? And do I really want to know, or should I leave my assumptions alone and stop making it harder to live inside my head than it already is.
Cleavage Diaries– My brief thoughts and musings that are either totally irrelevant or society changing, accompanied by pictures I am trying out to see which will work in a logo.
Watch this video and you will see an unassuming area in downtown Honolulu, commercial and residential. Light traffic, one lane for each direction. You would never guess by looking at the area that this area far outdid Waikiki in terms of numbers of providers who were female or close approximations. In three short blocks there were about 30 providers working all day, every day. And by working I mean standing on the street attempting to make eye contact with passing drivers. When a driver gestured with a nod and pulled over just ahead of her she would get in, they’d drive to a semi-public nook no more than a mile away that was isolated enough not to have the police roll up, they’d engage in a quick sex act for $5-$100 depending on what she could successfully demand and his generosity. The driver would take her back to her starting point and she’d dash off to see a conveniently located dealer. She’d take her dope to an apartment where the leaseholder traded access to his place in exchange for a share of the dope and sex if he could pressure her into paying twice. They’d use the dope til it was gone and as soon as it was gone so was her welcome. She’d race walk back to the street in the video where she’d watch the cars just like the cars you see driving by in this video, to do it all over again. She earned $2-500/day but she was always broke. All that was going on right there, in full view, yet hidden. Doesn’t the video amaze you?
Men who hire prostitutes are very clear about what they are purchasing. And no, they do not use the line that working girls use to describe the transaction–they are not paying for the woman’s time. Nor are they paying for sex. What do they value above all else? A man prizes his own time. When he is not having sex with a woman he wants to spend the minimum time with this woman on irrelevancies. He does not want to spend the time it takes to coax and woo the woman with candy, cards, and flowers. What’s even worse is having to talk to her, and the absolute worst is having to listen and demonstrate that he has heard her. Then after the fact, when he wants to flee, he has to spoon. In order to get what he wants he has to fight his nature every step of the way. With a prostitute he can get what he wants the way a man truly wants it. How does one guy explain why he seeks out prostitutes?
We are not paying for sex. We are paying the woman to go away immediately after sex.
A regular patron of adult services workers
Does a man make exceptions and enjoy the relationship surrounding the sex act? Yes, of course. Just not as often as women might hope.
Does a man pay a woman for sex under this theory? No, a man does not pay a woman for sex. Do you believe this?
Caroleena, the expert escort
If a middle school age fkid says “I’m an astrophysicist. I have known it since I was 3. I was born this way and will always be this way,” we would smile indulgently, perhaps be supportive, maybe try to talk sense into him. We would not expect commitment. Test if this kid says he is gay, that we would believe, and expect him to follow through with the action all his life. How odd, when you think about it
The main problem with life and death decisions is that they don’t identify themselves as important when they first present. This is choice is death, that one is life–wouldn’t it be great if we had those guides, neon and italicized. You almost never know that the decision to leave thirty seconds later caused you to avoid being in the oncoming path of a drunk driver. People often assign blame to others about what did happen–if it weren’t for this person, that bad outcome would not have happened. The choice for death is clearly labelled when someone else appears to be the blame due to actions that had nothing to do with us. For example, the governor of Massachusetts, Michael Dukakis, lost his bid for president bc under his prisoner release program a black inmate named Willie Horton got out early and raped and murdered a woman–maybe he did more. For all we know Dukakis might have prevented all sorts of rapes and murders–but that’s just it, there is no way to know what did not happen due to a correct life choice. Choices only identify themselves as death when something happens.
Life and death decisions suck because they so often masquerade as meaningless non-events and catch us off guard.
I’m grateful for the honesty. No one offered me false hope. It’s not the void that devastates, it’s the dream deferred, the false hope. There’s the law of attraction but there’s also the law of harsh reality and that’s the one that applies to me. I said I wouldn’t lie to you and I won’t. I am not indulging in false hope, sending out applications for nothing, all that is over. There seems to be no way out of the burden if the record of prostitution, but deserve it bc I did it. I don’t have benefits afforded to the privileged bc I opted out of that group and in the next post I will tell you why. Since I have no wealth, I don’t have the money to for an attorney to file the expungement– so that is that. Any employment dreams are not going to come true. All the fighting I’ve done to get a profession, and obtain a license in this profession, has all come to nothing bc no one will hire an X-Hooker. Are you laughing at me? I always imagine that people are. I am out of hope but I’m not out of stories. I’ll just keep writing until some kind of end comes along.
There’s so much we are supposed to do every day. Exercise. Meditate. Pray. Slowly eat small portions of mostly vegetable meals off of blue plates. Do puzzles to stay mentally sharp. Develop your spirituality. Apologize. Forgive. Do a daily moral inventory. And that’s before breakfast. I know all of this from the email alerts about living right, the ones I actually read. The others stack up and their unread presence makes me feel guilty. I’ve read enough to know that people want positivity. Sometimes I don’t have any. I’m frustrated be the futility of my job search. I don’t have the funds or partners to start something on my own. I feel like someone’s got to come along to help me change things. Or I can’t get that blast of inspiration that’ll show me the way. There, I’ve done the taboo–written out the negatives without embracing the challenges that have made me the person I am today, a person who now advocates for world peace, holds no ill will towards anyone, and has the answers to all of life’s questions which I share during world wide speaking engagements during which I promote my best selling novel as my family surrounds me, beaming.
Someone I know spearheaded the search for a woman to add to her long term relationship. The guy said ,”Sure, whatever you want.” No surprise there. I got involve with them for my own motives. You see, my friend, the one who was more gay than straight, he had a crush on the guy. The guy prostested (perhaps too much) that he did not want anything to do with another man in the bedroom. I wanted to pique my friend’s interest in me, because his interest waxed and waned. I wanted to keep his interest in me steady, so I joined that couple, with the intention of telling my friend about the guy. He always said he would love to hear the details. And, I had never been with a woman before, maybe this would be a good introduction and I could share details of this exploration with my friend. But guess what? Something that promised to be full of intrigue and excitement wasn’t really enjoyable. The reason is pretty obvious when I think about it now. I wasn’t in the threesome because I was interested in those people. If I am going to be brutally honest with myself, I was just using them to get someone else’s attention. And as far as me interacting with the other female–it never happened. Why not? She had no interest in the threesome either. She just wanted to control her man’s access to other women. Her rule was he had to include her in all in his interactions with other women. So she could watch. Like a hawk. Nothing participatory about it. A total let down, in the moment. And how about my plan to share the details with my friend so he could live vicariously. There I was paying close attention to everything that happened, blow by blow, so I could tell a good story, only to discover that he was more jealous of me than he was willing to admit so he refused to hear the stories, they bothered him. Say what?
The problem was we all had large goals that we tried to reach with this interaction by using other people to get what we wanted. We didn’t care about these other people or what they wanted and that’s why none of the plans came to fruition because we all pretended we were into it but we weren’t:
Josie–she was using me to present a woman to her man who was in love with someone else and therefore not after him. She did not want to have anything to do with me, in fact, she secretly resented me. She never looked my way during the whole interaction. That was time she spent watching her man like a hawk.
Jonathan–was using me under the pretense of giving his old lady (the phrase they use in Hawaii for girlfriend or wife) what she wanted. He simply wanted someone new. And like the typical guy (yes I said it), he wanted to break rules. The only rule he was supposed to follow was to include Josie so of course he pursued me relentlessly, sneaking around Josie, and irritating me because my mind was elsewhere
Caroleena–I was using the two of them, especially Jonathan because I wanted to pique Ken’s interest only to find that he was a habitual liar about his feelings. He didn’t even know the truth of what he felt and I bet he was as surprised as I was to feel distressed when I tried to tell him the story of sex that didn’t include him but that he had claimed would make a great story.
Ken–was using me to pass the time until he could find the man of his dreams. He died before he found that man of his dreams. He didn’t expect to be attached to me, especially since I was introduced to him as a hooker. I didn’t expect to be attached to him because I realized he was gay within an hour after meeting him and gay men were irrelevant to my life, and I admit, I looked down on gay men at that time. I just didn’t know gay had so much wiggle room. It was within this wiggle room that we got attached to each other, while defiantly and unsuccessfully trying to show each other that we could pursue other people–so there!
The threesome, in a nutshell, was two twosomes, as each of us took turns with the guy all the while she watched her boyfriend to make sure she got more attention, and I watched her boyfriend to make sure I had details to take back to Ken. Both of us did what women have done since forever, waited for it to be over so we could get back to doing what we really wanted to do.
I always find it interesting to be deemed a loser by the powers that be in tv land. I don’t know if it is the programming or the time of day both or neither, but based on the commercials I get a certain message. The TV land people think the viewers of that programming at that time are in debt with credit cards and the IRS, under-educated or partially educated with somewhat finished degrees, confused about Medicare and heading for a medical insurance disaster and in need of life insurance that they (the audience) thinks is unaffordable. Never fear, there is something called final expense insurance that is not the income replacement that people usually want when they buy life insurance. No this insurance only covers a person’s “final expenses.” Everyone is going to die, and it seems insurance companies have decided to try to obtain recession proof supply of customers–people who could not qualify for, and/or afford large policies and who are also going to die one day.
The first thing I think is ironic is the offer of help with medical bills. I would not want to get a policy to help me pay for medical treatment that evidently was not going to work for me since I was going to end up dead. This irony might have been obvious to the advertising people because in the commercial they skip over the medical bills that will crush you and focus on the inevitable–the funeral. Not every funeral is $8-9000. I was once a bystander of a situation that called for a husband to make arrangements for his recently deceased wife. Since Social Security will only pay something like $250, the funeral home had a package for that. I want to let my readers know that thousands of dollars for a funeral is not inevitable. The makers of the commercial know that too much talk of the inevitable is not the way to go. We are reassured that everything is fine, the mother featured was bringing this subject to the forefront to keep her son from having to think about such unpleasantness. The son can further put the ugly thoughts out of mind when he remembers that the policy has a “vitality” feature that provides tips and info to his mom around “even longer,” tips that maintain mom’s health so she can keep providing childcare for his baby. This commercial for people who cannot deal with life, and death, in any way shape or form just about hits the viewers over the head with the message, “we have something for you losers so you need not adjust yourselves an inch to deal with unpleasantness because through no effort of your own everything is fine and will be fine forever and ever, world without end, amen. And if you are a senior, you’d better take steps to pay for your inconvenient dying, or the grown kids will bad mouth your dead ass on national television.
i don’t even want to think about that
An adult son referring to the eventual death of his mother
well you don’t have to
A senior reassuring her adult son that real life will not hit him in the face, as long as she purchases the final expense insurance policy
That’s right, your man will always want to have sex with someone other than you. There are many who do not pursue the desire but the desire is still there. It is the nature of the beast. You can be a lot of people and no doubt you have tried to be many different people if you love your man, but you can never be someone new. He wants someone new, they all want that. If he is one of those men who pursue the desire and have meaningless sex with a pro or a stranger, that too, has nothing to do with you. A man always needs a woman in his life to take care of him. Now don’t cringe, but a man needs a mommy all of his life. Behind every great man there is indeed a great woman, and that woman is taking care of him, shoring him up, covering for him, being strong where he is weak. He cannot make it in this world without her and he knows this. Nevertheless, he may very well have meaningless sex with other women and if he does, your position in his heart and mind is not threatened in the least. He wouldn’t trade you in for all the new sex in the world. But in a perfect world, he wants to have both–you and new sex. How each man handles this fact of man’s nature is very individual, but I can just about guarantee that no man can squash the desire. The question is will he or won’t he. And if he will, how does she, how do they, handle it, if they want to stay together. In these situations I advocate the motto of every avoidant person–“don’t ask, don’t tell.” Truth is a great thing. But sometimes truth that is quietly maintained and not up in everyone’s faces is the best form of honesty there is.
I know this feeling is not just related to the computer, because I remember feeling this way in high school when I scrawled pages of reports in my awful handwriting on yellow lined paper. I worked until I was in a cold sweat and had to lie down for a little while. Like I will right now.
Our own identities don’t filter our input of information from the world. After being subjected to the same sexism and racism as everyone else I developed sexist and racist attitudes that you’d think my own gender and ethnicity would prevent me from developing. But my identity does not form a protective filter, so I am left thinking bad things about people who look like me, and very much not wanting to believe those things but without a replacement belief system what can I think? That’s why I end up surprising myself with my abilities. I have never heard anyone else acknowledge this de facto self-belittling, but I bet I am not the only one to be surprised that someone who looks like me can write so well.
View original post 18 more words
