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A few of you dirty, soulless beings still aren't sure
whether or not this is for your best interest. Ladies, let me assure you, the 50% of your earnings I ask for is
nothing but that: me asking for money. Hell, you'll be making so much after you put my advice into practice that
you will be begging to give me 75% or more for being so godamn awesome. But I won't take the extra percentage,
no no no, because this is for YOU ladies, all seven of you that read this. I've been telling women my secrets for
years, and you'll be happy to know each of them owns their own mountain chain made of cocaine in Arizona.
So now, without further ado, let's get into the good stuff with the do's and don'ts of getting down and dirty with
women for money!
DO - tell her that prostitution is a club that empowers women and sends fruits of the month to anyone who takes
part. Also mention to her about how your pimp gives you jewelry and $10 gift certificates to Best Buy.
DON'T - tell her that you just got done getting a cleveland steamer by a 359 lb. black guy with a glass eye. Just
say that lingering smell of shit must be coming from the factory that burns babies nearby.
DO - inflate your charges. Women have no real concept of costs when it comes to sex. Always ask for around $10,000
and go from there. If food or kissing is involved, push it up to around $12,000.
DON'T - make eye-contact with them. As you probably know, women can turn whores into stone with their glare. My
advice is to either wear a blindfold when you perform your duties or cut off the head and feed it to the grand
titan Oceles, all-knowing master and keeper of the slut.
DO - wear a wig. Women love to roleplay and pretend that you are a wild grizzly bear that sells tricks on the corner.
Let them shoot you with a shotgun in the chest, or go all out and have your once noble flesh turned into a beautiful
rug if you want the big bucks. Just make sure to charge them twice as much as an hour of strap-on action and you'll
be.....well you'll be dead. Sorry.
DON'T - connect emotionally with any of your clients. Money is your god, not love. Don't try and make this some
sick and twisted "Pretty Woman" B-movie sequel like you're going to find some gorgeous woman with an
excellent job who only cares about who you truly are. You can't even look her in the eyes without being petrified
for god's sake, become a hippy if you're looking for love you crackpot.
DO - describe to her the way her body feels, like if her boobs feel like balloons filled with jello and tartar
sauce, you say it. She'll squeal from delight when you tell her that her stomach feels like the lips of a fat guy
who's really hungry, or that her thigh looks like a pole that's been pulled from the ground. It doesn't have to
make sense.
DON'T - form a rock band consisting of yourself on drums and other prostitutes. It's been tried before by The Bangles
(the band that made stereotypical assumptions that egyptians walked like retarded chickens), and it didn't work
out too well for any of them.
DO - form a jazz band consisting of yourself on guitar and some old white guys. You are really good at guitar!
PLAY DAVE MATTHEWS! PLAY SOME FUCKING DAVE MATTHEWS! I LOVE THAT ONE SONG ABOUT, I DON'T KNOW...I can't understand
his lyrics.
DON'T - tell your father. He's been going through enough already with the bankruptcy of the business and that awful
prime rib I cooked him last night for dinner. I.....I should have remembered that he likes the blood to pour out
each time he cuts it, like he's some fucking repressed vampire that can't get blood any other way. The least the
man could do is credit me on my fucking fantastic potato salad, that's all I'm saying.
DO - compliment her on what she's wearing. Try to make your customer as comfortable as possible before you perform
your duties. Once she's fully relaxed and ready to start, throw some dirt into her face. Women like it when you
do that, right?
DON'T - bury your feces in the cemetery anymore. That's just really weird.
So there it is whores, now get out on those streets and make your dreams come true. There's like two other do/don't
things I don't remember though, possibly had to do with investing in stocks. Maybe if a certain someone didn't
insist on me being drunk nine days a week JOHN BELUSHI, I could become a productive member of society and help
build skyscrapers like a real man.
Oh, for fucking love of.......Belushi's still dead I think. I really have to start remembering my friends real
names and stop referring to them as dead celebrities.
THE END
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