Be Nice to Prostitutes

Some of the most interesting people I know are prostitutes, and it's my deep desire to see prostitution become decriminalized. You might ask, "What is prostitution, Virgie, and what is decriminalization?" Well, prostitution is what men use instead of therapy and decriminalization is what we owe the world's oldest profession.

Proposition K is on the San Francisco ballot for the upcoming election. The measure includes suspending laws against prostitution as well as suspending programs like FOPP. Now, if you're reading my blog, there's a good chance you've been through FOPP, aka First Offender Prostitution Program, where a john can go for his first prostitution offense, hear about how dehumanizing sex work is, get shamed, and then get his record cleared. It's like traffic school, except you can't take it online and it's more awkward.

What's the point? Well, prostitution is a public health issue. When it's illegal, sex workers are more likely to be battered, raped, extorted (and for these illegal acts to go unreported). And when it's illegal, sex workers are less likely to seek medical treatment for Sexually Transmitted Infections and other medical concerns. It's a human rights issue, and voting yes on Prop K makes you pro-human.

Stop wanking for second, and read more about this: http://www.bayswan.org/SFInitiative08/

x( . )( . )x,
Virgie

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On: Lurve

Last night I was speaking with an "old friend," who had called me from Helsinki. I was conveying to him my self-diagnosed love disabilities (= extreme ineptitude in category: "the game"). It went something like this, "I dunno *name*. I mean, I'm successful, ambitious. I have great tits, am a pervert, articulate, independent. I like to toe cuddle, and I put everything out there." He told me that we become attached because we place our dreams in the hands of others and expect them to take care of them. Then we had phone sex.

Once I read a book (maybe an article) written on how to get a man to "pop the question." This is, apparently, a real ambition among my vagina-bearing sisters. It suggested that a woman wait until their man-mate has experienced a death - preferably dog or dad - to suggest that they get married. He's "emotionally vulnerable" then, and he's more likely to be interested in introducing some stability into his life when he's crying uncontrollably and feeling emotionally barren. Is this the game that people are expected to play?

I've been thinking about the rules of lurve a lot lately. The rules are alive and kicking. Cosmo preaches them from their check-out line pulpits. Love snobs - like myself - shrug them off as archaic and loved by the same vacuous idiots who follow nazi marriage rituals (such as the above mentioned). But no, there's something deeper to the rules: something that most people find comfort in. Religion is the opiate of the masses, right?

The rules totally befuddle me. And the taurean brat in me refuses to play by rules. I'm a grown-up, and I've made the decision to be emotionally reckless, to love fully and without reservation, to be an emotional glutton. Somehow, my set of rules gets me nowhere with lurve interests. Well, that's not fair. It takes a really hunk of a man to deal with me, and most people aren't - when the chips are down - interested in eye contact, communication, making all their sex dreams come true, and being with a woman whose dreams are bigger than they are.

I guess I'm just some fanciful girl who's chasing after a huge cocked, intelligent, well-read, tit loving unicorn or something. *sigh*

My Boobies: a Retrospective

As you know, I love boobies. My boobies probably hold the most special place in the part of my heart that's dedicated to boobies. I like to do lots of things with them: put soap on them and wash them sensually while I pout - even if no one is looking, talk to them, stare at them while at the crosswalk; I wonder what they would do if they ruled the world for a day, and I wonder why they like some people more than others, and I like to use them to get free stuff, and most of all, I like to take pictures of them. And that's what this blog is about: a completely gratuitous display of my boobs. Enjoy!
*sighs* it's great to have big boobies
x( . )( . )x,
Virgie