What the.. where the hell.. what….sh*t hold on hold on, I’m coming.
Lucy had overslept, Kerry was locked out the flat, and was buzzing frantically at the buzzer.

“Morning sleepy head” said Kerry as Lucy let, Kerry in.
“What time is it?” asked Lucy
“Its time you were getting ready, I’ve a busy day planned for you, lots of people want to meet you for work.” said Kerry
“now chop chop, we’ve no time to waste”

Lucy felt dazed and confused, it all seemed so surreal.
Only 24 hours earlier she was at work, living a very normal life, and 24hrs on she had driven to London, met an agent that turned out to be an agent/madam, who sent her to Oxford to work as a hooker so some dirty perve to suck her tits for £300!
Lucy pinched herself to see if she was dreaming.
No this was real, this is madness she thought.

“Right Lucy, I’ve choosen you a few sexy outfits, as photographers like to have a choice, they never like to shoot a girl in the same outfit twice.” Kerry explained to Lucy.
“Now I’ve told these photographers you don’t mind showing pink” said Kerry
“Pink?” Lucy seemed puzzled
“Sorry Lucy I should have said open pussy shots”
Kerry seemed to have the gift to make Lucy speechless, I can’t ever remember saying anything about showing my pink, Lucy thought to herself.
“The thing is Lucy” Kerry said next, like she had read Lucys mind “I know you haven’t said anything about showing pink, but if you want to make big money then its pink all the way!” laughed Kerry.

“Right the first photographer we are going to see today is Harry,” Kerry explained “he is based in islington, does loads of the major top shelf publications.”
“Now he just wants to shoot a few polaroids to see if your photogenic.” Then he will make the desision to whether or not he’ll book you for a shoot or not.
“Then its off to Essex to meet Roy, now he has got some girl girl stuff coming up, which I think you woud be good at.”
Lucy froze in fear, “erm I’m not being funny here Kerry, but when you say girl girl do you mean like Lesbians?” asked a concerned Lucy.
The Fear of being with another woman, frightened her.
Kerry wasn’t aware of Lucys past rape ordeal which happened when she was only 15, the rape she encountered was terrifiying, as it wasn’t just a man who had raped her it was also a woman.
The had man held her down while the woman sexual abused her.
“I CAN’T DO IT” shouted Lucy in a panick “I can’t do girls, I won’t do it” Lucy started to get upset.
“Hey Lucy calm down, its alright, come on, in the industry lots of girls do girls, it doesn’t make you a lesbian, its work at the end of the day, its what sells.
Again Kerry had somehow taken over the situation, gained control of Lucy’s emotions, and Lucy just went back into Kerry’s lap dog mode.

“Look, its easy, you don’t have to really do it, pretend, remember these are stills, so all the photographs are all posed” Kerry said reasurringly.
“Take a look at this Mayfair mag” Kerry said as she held it out to Lucy.
“look at this set here, these two girls, are my girls, Demi Lee, and roseanne” said Kerry, “Believe me their both not lesbians, they just work together on photo sets.”
Kerry was good at convincing Lucy, in reality she was brainwashing and grooming her, taking advantage of a vunrable young girl.

Lucy arrived at the islington Studio, and met Harry the photographer.
Harry was cool, infact too cool, he looked like he just rolled out of the sixty’s with his quirky clothes.
“Nice to meet you Lucy” Harry said with a cigerrette hanging from his mouth.
“OK, how old are you?” he asked
“I’m 22″ said Lucy
“No your not, your 19, well you are as from today, always say your younger than you already are” Harry told Lucy.
“Its a tip, and you will get more work!” he said.
“Right now down to business” Harry said snapping his fingers to his assisant.
Lucy got ready in her first outfit, a frilly little bra and knickers set, with a mini skirt and vest.
“You look great Lucy” as Harry snapped at the polaroid camera.
“Just a few more, Lucy look this way a little, that’s it, chin up, come on look sexy darling, great you look great”
Harry took a few polaroids of Lucy, fully clothes, then half naked, then full naked, but no pink, thank goodness for that Lucy thought.

Right I’m going to wizz these polaroids off to the publishers to see if they want me to do a set with you.

Harry said a few things privately to Kerry, most probably about money, Lucy thought.

Back in the car, Kerry seemed really pleased.
“That went really well, Lucy. Harry liked you, he is a hard man to please no pun intended, he usually only likes small chested girls, so your lucky he took a shine to you.”
“He will be able to commission a set for one of the top shelf magazines, so I’ll call him in the week, hopefully fingers crossed you’ll have a booking.”

Kerry then took Lucy to Essex to meet Roy.
Roy booked Lucy for a solo girl photoshoot for the following morning at the flat.
“Tomorrow, Roy will be arriving at the flat at 10am, he will pay you £200 by cheque, he will leave me a cheque for £100, thats my agency fee and rental fee for the using the flat as a set.” said Kerry
Now Roy he’ll want to shoot at least 4 sets of you , so make sure you have your outfits ready.

It was nearing on 3pm on Saturday afternoon, and things were going well, Lucy really enjoyed it, she felt like a real glamour model, going to bookings, and castings with her own agent.
While Lucy was getting caught up in the frenzy of glamour modelling, she seemed to forget about the escorting.
She had just about finished daydreaming, when Kerry told her that she had to hurry up to get ready for an escorting booking, with Mark an estate agent in Maida Vale as he wanted to meet her in half hour.

Oh god no thought Lucy, “I don’t know if I can do this Kerry” said Lucy.
“Don’t be daft of course you can” Kerry said in her matter of fact voice
“Marks really easy, he will meet you in a derelict peoperty, thats probably for sale or rent.
You see he is an estate agent, and pretends your a client going for a viewing.
Marks married, and like to see girls weekly for a quick BJ, he pays good money, and if your really good and he like you, he will keep booking you as well as giving great money tips.

Before Lucy knew what she was doing she was in the back of a black cab on the way to some flat doen Elgin Road.
Mark was waiting for her outside the flat, what shocked Lucy was how young he was, about mid thirtys, in an expensive suit.
“Hello Lucy, I’m Mark” “So I’m going to show you around this flat, he said” my god he really is doing the estate agent banter on with me, it was like roll playing, except he really was an estate agent.
Once inside the flat, that was obviously up for rent, Mark quickly undid his pants and asked Lucy to pleasure him.
It all felt so seedy, here was Lucy in some landlords property while a respectable estate agent was getting off with some hooker posing as a potential tentant, it was all so wrong.
Mark pleasured himself very quickly, obviously he was in a hurry to get back to the estate agents it was after all a Saturday afternoon.
Mark handed the cash over with a tip.
And out Lucy went, back onto Elgin road, a few people walked by, no one looked, no one knew what she had just done.

PART 6: Coming up The amatuer Glamour photographer, TV X fantasy channel strip tease, the pannick attacks the betrayal to her mother….

I’ve been hesitating to write this one. I’ve been considering the potential of this information to do harm. I’ve been considering the opposite sex. I’ve been considering whether it’s wise to make this sort of information public in the nominal anonymity of the internet. However, I have to give in. Most of the time a male true introvert lacks any fellow human beings with which he has anything in common. Most of the time there are absolutely zero even mildly suitable female partners in his immediate circle of acquaintance. Attempts at internet dating are no less hellish. The only option(short of everlasting celibacy) within mainstream society for men who don’t fit in is to try to ‘game’ females for which he has no personal affection. This activity involves lying to someone else. For an introvert, it must involve a fair measure of lying to oneself. It is yet another scenario where the introvert’s need to conceal his true personality is critical. This approach is destructive and/or unethical for several reasons. It:

-Acknowledges and reinforces the larger society’s belief that introversion is a mental sickness.

-Reinforces a lifetime of having to conceal one’s true self.

-Reduces one to lying for one’s own selfish purposes. Forces one into a lifestyle of operating under false pretexts and diminishes one’s character.

-Consumes huge amounts of time and money. Becomes a distraction from the acquisition of knowledge, the sharpening of the intellect, from every other pleasure life has to offer.

Every time I was faced with the dating scene and how I would have to lie, lie, lie to get anywhere, I thought of how devoting myself to such a toxic environment would diminish me and force me to deny myself. I never could bring myself to truly devote myself. Yet, like most men, I was unwilling to live a life of celibacy. I had my needs, the unfulfillment of which proved another annoying distraction in my life. There had to be another solution. A solution that consumed a minimum of time and resources while being as ethical as possible. Mainstream persons might be shocked at the answer that occurred to me:

prostitution.

Perhaps the main appeal was simply the stark honesty in it.

-There is no lying or misunderstanding. Both parties are absolutely clear in their intent and motives. There is no possibility of misleading or deceiving someone. One need not stoop to becoming a deceiver.

-There is no need to act like someone else or hide one’s own personality. One need not suffer the indignity of denying oneself in order to get the prize carrot at the end of the stick.

-The cost of a prostitute is usually going to be less than the cost of dating.

-The cost in time of a prostitute is always going to be much less.

-Once again, honesty to oneself and to others. Unless a man feels genuine affection and affinity for a girl he mostly wants just one thing. Lots of men on the dating scene have to lie to themselves about this, but it’s the truth.

I was already in my twenties and still hadn’t lost my virginity. My body had lusted ceaselessly since my earliest teens. After a decade of eternal unfulfillment, I’d had enough. I needed sex, but I was both unwilling and unable to trick a girl into doing the deed with me. What I needed above all, even as much as intimate physical contact, was to have the knowledge of what sex was actually like. All I had to go on was the obviously distorted images of it in hollywood movies and TV shows. To lose my virginity was to engage in exploration, same as reading a book on a new subject. It was also to attain another degree of separation from my birth society. I needed my own definition of sex in my head apart from all the televised nonsense.

I finally got my chance in Amsterdam’s red light district while travelling across Europe. It is illegal for the prostitutes there to have pimps, most I’m told are independent agents just making money for themselves. They are just like any other self-employed people under the law of their country and can get themselves checked for diseases whenever they like. I chose this place in particular because I wanted to reduce my risk and be sure I was going to be with someone who was in the business by her own choice. The experience was very satisfying but it didn’t feel extraordinary at all. Yet, I felt as though I had been cheated all my life of something integral to human existence. It felt like one of those normal pleasures that ought to be daily and routine like eating a good meal or taking a good dump. It was just as natural as eating. In fact, I best enjoyed it on an empty stomach and then I’d go eat at a restaurant with that pleasant buzz still in my body. The experience confirmed what I had already known. The hype in pop-culture is completely undeserved and it exists because of the simple fact that sex makes money. It makes money because it is so hard to find a desirable partner in real life. People tend to want what they can’t have, even if it’s not deserving of such intense desire.

I am aware that what I did would be considered by most people to be ’sleazy’ at best.   Some of my friends were horrified when I admitted what I had done(they asked). However, I still understand what I did to be the most ethical solution and that is why I’m writing about it today. The majority culture in English speaking countries strongly disapproves of prostitution. Yet the same culture is perfectly OK with men who just want sex deceiving women who are searching for long term relationships.  It seems rather warped to me. Just another indictment of my silly birth culture. Just another reason to turn away from the accepted orthodoxy. For the most part, people aren’t trying to be ethical. They’re just mindlessly following whatever they were taught and reacting to the values of the majority of others so they don’t get crushed.

In any case, I benefited greatly from my experiment. The experience helped put things into perspective that my birth culture had distorted. I had known intellectually that women, like men were creatures of flesh and blood but until I educated myself, I had not known this truth on the visceral level. After this experience, women had far less power over me. As a result, women were far more attracted to me.

I hadn’t the luxury of thinking about fine cuisine until I had escaped famine conditions.  Once I knew I had some potential outlet for basic sex, I could turn my mind to the possibility of actually building a relationship with a woman for the first time in my life. Because I had an appreciation of just how ordinary sex is, I was able to pursue my private studies without any doubts that I was indeed missing out on something unfathomably great. I was more focused in my solitude than ever before and more content. I could finally look on all the extroverts who always seem to pair up with ease without any particular envy or insecurity. All because of a few nights not very good sex.

And when I say not very good, I mean it. You can pick any girl you want, but I have to warn prospective johns. She will try to do as little as she can for as much money as possible. You should haggle over the price and be 100% sure that it is mutually understood what you’ve agreed to do together. It’s not very good sex because one must constantly be on guard against being cheated. Also because a guy has a strict time limit to finish up. Knowing that the clock is ticking doesn’t make for the most relaxing of sessions. It’s not very good sex, but it is sex and with whoever you want.

And something that goes for anywhere in the world: DON’T USE STREETWALKERS. Most of them are under the control of pimps, might even be sex slaves, might be trying to fuel a drug addiction or all of the above. They’re also one of the best ways in the world to catch a disease.

While in a puritanical English speaking country, the best bet is undoubtedly to call up escorts and gradually find out which ones work out best.

A very important thing to know: If you are a virgin, don’t EVER tell them that you are a virgin. It’s the equivalent of going to a car dealership and telling them you’ve never bought a car before. If she knows you don’t know anything, she will use every trick in the book to quickly separate you and your money. If she thinks she can get away with it, she might even try to extort you once you’re too far along to easily stop. These ladies are not the victims they’re portrayed as in the movies. They’re tough and they’ve seen it all. They are quick to manipulate and intimidate when they think it will get them somewhere. The john and hooker relationship is not one-sided and it’s more complicated than moral puritans realize.

The bottom line: take all the cautionary measures you would if you were making any other purchase. This is business and male introverts who remember this will get the basics of what they need, what has always been impossible to get within the hostile confines of their birth society.

Most important of all:

Ability to satisfy the basic male need for sex without being forced to subjugate oneself to the standards of the accepted orthodoxy.  Sex no matter how uncool one’s hobbies are or how divergent one’s personality and interests.  Sex without having to spend months learning courtship procedures all the other guys learned as a part of basic socialization.   For introvert men, this means removal of the last great means of leverage society still has on their lives.  It is a form of emancipation; the ability to simply bypass all the usual onerous steps and get to the truth and purpose of the matter.

I have always been in favor of having something above my head. That’s why I don’t understand convertibles; not only is there nothing above your head but also your air conditioner doesn’t really work because natural air keeps blowing in your face. I like my air to come from gas powered engines or a hookers breath.

Celebrities also love roofs, that’s why many of them sell roofs in their spare time. Roofs do so much for us I can totally understand their love of roofs. Roofs cover us and if you think children in China are roofs then roofs are also responsible for most forms of toy production. Celebrities love to stand and be seen and when they stand on a roof more people get to see them and notice how they too have human skin. Roofs are also in many famous movie scenes such as…um…the titanic? Whatever, roofs make famous people more famous and that’s why celebrities try and own as many roofs as possible. It’s a simple algebraic equation; people are only as valuable as the number of roofs they stand on and the amount of money they put in their bank account.

Another great thing about roofs is that roof rhymes with doof, and not very many things rhyme with doof. Celebrities like words that rhyme with doof, I have never been able to figure out why but it has something to do with makeup and not making sense during television interviews.

I also love roofs because if you have one then I know not to make fun of you for being homeless. I am very good at making fun of homeless people; I am so good at making fun of homeless people that they often are unable to think of a witty reply and that has nothing to do with the fact that they don’t have lips.

So I also like roofs famous celebrities, come find me and we’ll pee off of some of our favorite roofs onto the shoulders of homeless families

When you leave the hotel to go hunt down some pussy, please take your pride with you.  Don’t go to a bar and pick up on skanks by telling them that you play for an NFL team.  For one thing, you look nothing like a football player.  You are fucking 5 feet 8 inches tall and you’re fucking old as cheese.  Not to mention you don’t appear to be in stellar shape, dickwad.  Should you find someone gullible enough to believe this load of shit, please do not bring her back here to play strange sexual games while taking pictures of it.  When she sobers up enough to realize that she just fucked an unattractive middle-aged man who does not play in the NFL, she is going to fucking run out of your room faster than you can say “the clap”.  Leaving so quickly, she will forget about her belongings, which the next day becomes an annoyance to me.  She will call the hotel numerous times trying to get a hold of you so she can get back her camera which she “uses to feed her babies”….WHAT THE HELL?!  WHAT DID YOU BRING BACK AND FUCK?!  After dodging all 15 of her calls, you finally decide you will leave her camera at the front desk for her to pick up…like I even want to touch that shit after last nights escapades.  Thanks for making me deal with your unattractive hooker and her walk of shame the next morning…you FUCKING COWARD.

PS-I hope your dick falls off when you get home.

Ho

Maybe I am just lucky, or perhaps I just have what it takes or maybe I am just full of it and it’s just because I worked hard, but I am in a new agency. I know how hard it is for a bigger girl to find an agency, however, I managed to find one that would take me. T, my agent, said that she knows that there is a market out there for someone like me, especially for repeat customers, which I always thought. I have a photo shoot tomorrow so I picked up a bunch of new outfits to wear. Mostly black, and I found a pair of pink and black garter panties which I’ve never seen before, so I hope it’ll come in handy! I am so excited. I just need to make time to get to the nail salon beforehand.

Last night I was meant to meet with a client, a uni student my age. I knew that going with someone my age would just be a problem, however, I thought maybe it would go well. He seemed keen. When I arrived, however, he said his landlord was around and he couldnt bring me over. I told him to just pick me up and we can decide what to do together. He asked if I wanted to do it out in the park or in the toilets of Tescos. I was so insulted. Not only did he make me wait for nearly an hour, but to suggest something like that?! i am not some two-bit dirty hooker that you pay £5 and a line of coke. Who does he think I am? He is paying good money to be with me, why even think to suggest something like that?! I was so angry that I decided to go to My Local and get really drunk. E couldn’t come with me, so I went on my own. Not far into the night, I ran into W, whom I have seen there last semester and we would randomly make out and he came up to me and just started kissing me, like before. I ended up leaving with him. This time it was different as he actually spoke to me this time, bought me drinks, etc. We went back to his almost right away with a friend of his. A fight broke out between his friend and the cab driver… something happened involving the police, etc. I am not sure cause they sent me inside and didn’t let me get involved at all. His friend the whole time we were inside though kept asking, ‘CanI lick your fanny? Can I lick your fanny?’ What part of ‘No!’ does he not get?

W and I a didn’t sleep with one another that night, I wanted to wait because I actually really fancy him and he is the most attractive person I’ve seen in a very long time. I always said I would take him home and now I did, I didn’t want to ruin it! We fooled around a lot and he didn’t mind when I didn’t sleep with him. He just said, ‘It’s ok, girlfriend, don’t worry about it.’ and he held me til I fell asleep. We fooled around a lot the next morning on and off and talked and just got to know one another. He is so sweet and lovely. I eventually just gave in and we did sleep with one another, but he didn’t seem to change his mind about me. I hope he does get in contact with me again soon. It’s not often I can find a man I really fancy. If not, I mean, I always know where t go to find him.

It all starts with listening. You’d be surprised how much you can tell about a girl just by listening to her. Not because what she’s saying really matters, but because there is always an underlying tone to everything. You start to take note of her true personality.

I was out with a friend a few weeks ago and after noticing one of the two girls at the other end of the bar giving me the ol’ eye a few times I went over to initiate the conversation with the other one. They turned out to be somewhat guarded and made a few sarcastic remarks, but they were playful and, in the end, quite friendly. One of them had a stunning body. Voluptuous but firm with a lovely, taut stomach…

As the night progressed we escalated the physical contact and neither of them seemed to mind it. After a while though, I started to pick up on some of the things The Body was saying -mostly related to money. It seemed to come up more than in the usual conversation, she started “charging” for each part of her body he touched and he was probably a good 10 grand in the whole by the time they’d left. When I grabbed her ass and gave it a good squeeze her only remark was that it would cost me $100 instead of the usual $10 for the more PG parts of the body.

If you guessed Stripper like  I did, you’d be wrong. She was an escort. I found out when they got picked up by a pimp in a Land Rover I recognized from one of the condos I deal with.

The moral of the story here, obviously, is if a girl talks about money, she’s a probably a hooker….proceed as you wish.

Lugesin seda postitust ja ei uskunud oma silmi. Seda võin ma veel uskuda, et mõni hull võtab raamatukogust raamatuid ja tõmbab neis ropud sõnad korrektoriga maha, aga seda, et rahvas sellele hullule plaksutama hakkab… Anna kannatust.

I have just been considering what constitutes a popular blog. I have noticed that a popular blog needs to contains posts which people can either strongly relate (which includes humour) or find useful. I saw a blog written by a woman who claimed to be a hooker, which became popular beyond belief. It is the quintessential pop-blog. Key topic: Sex. A topic everyone can relate to. And lets face it, how many women have wondered what it would be like to be a hooker? And how many guys have considered hiring one at some point. So this woman created a blog which appealed to the sexual curiosity of millions, and did a very good job of it. No wonder it became so popular. She got a book deal and became deservedly rich.

Now contrast it with this blog – the pseudo-intellectual musings of some weird guy. Who can relate to that? Not many. Which is fine because popularity isn’t my goal for this blog. But I would love to create another blog based around a pop-topic and persona, and then try to make it super-dooper popular! It would be a fun social experiment… and… with some luck… it could make me rich!!! Well, I can dream. Maybe I will try it someday

The Hilton thing? Nothing compared to what tonight was like.This was a serious hooker moment.

I was feeling pretty desperate for a client tonight. Not for any particular reason, it was just two days since my last, and I like to feel active. I would ideally like a new client every day. I know that’s not possible, but its something for which to strive. So I put up another advert and it took a while, but soon a lot of guys were asking to have me come around tonight, but at that point, I was just too tired t leave the house. (I had gotten all of 3 hours sleep the night before after drinking about 4 bottles of wine with my friends for one of their 30th birthdays) so I declined and asked them to book me for the weekend, however, one man said he only wanted me tonight and for only half an hour for a massage. I thought that wasn’t so bad and he lived so close by, so I said yes and started to get ready. Then throughout this, it turned into not a massage, but just half an hour of sex. I thought this was odd because it wasn’t nearly enough time to really do much. At least in MY experience thus far haha. At that point, I was practically ready and I got a call from another client who has been wanting to meet up, but we haven’t been able to because of schedule clashes who said he was available tonight if I could make it. So, I figured, I’d just get this one over and done with and rush over to J so we could have our time together finally. The first guy, R, seemed pretty nice on the phone and was nice in person, but the whole thing was a bit awkward in my opinion. I don’t know if I’ve just been with older men too much lately, but him being only 35 made me feel abnormally self-conscious about my body. (Mind you, he still told me how sexy he found me, but a part of me just thought he was lying. But again, why lie to somene you are paying to sleep with?…still bothers me though!) So I was thinking about that the whole time while he tried to do his thing, which included a bit of anal. Now, I know as an escort, it’s something I’m going to have to get used to, but I am really reluctant! I decided to let him try anyway because I thought he might just come sooner and I could throw my clothes back on. He tried and tried, but he just couldnt get it in. I think I know why, but I don’t want to say, even to whoever may be reading this. I still want to keep some things just between the client and myself. Anyway, it was over and done with pretty quick and I didn’t have to do much. Very ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’. To top it all off, J said we should cancel and wait until later as it’d be so late when we were finished. I spent ages putting on that damn new garter and stockings for him too! Oh well, I love the way a garter feels on me anyway. I almost want to go out to a bar or something wearing that and a skirt that barely covered the hold ups and a button up top and my mate’s platform mary janes and see how the men react then. Mmmm..face to face bookings. I don’t know if I could do that just yet, but when I feel a bit more confident, it will definitely be an experience.

By the way, I think I want to try and sign up witha different escort company. I found one I’d really like to join, but I will need to lose like two dress sizes. I need to buy more Alli haha.

Tutto ha inizio da qui.

Nagu teate, saab Delfis esitada küsimusi seagripi kohta, millele 12. novembril vastatakse. Üks inimene on püstitanud väga huvitavaid küsimusi (mõned tunduvad küll vandenõuteooriana sinna liigitatud, aga vähemalt faktilised andmed on siiski õiged, nii et mõtlemisainet kui palju), nii et otsustasin need ka siin ära tuua. Rõhutan, et olen üsna skeptiline osade väidete suhtes (näiteks selles osas, et 1918. aastal oleksid surnud AINULT vaktsineeritud – tahaksin näha, kust need andmed võetud on).  Samuti ootan huviga Tervisekaitseinspektsiooni gripispetsialisti Olga Sadikova vastuseid.

1. Miks Maailma Tervishoiu Organisatsioon (MTO) muutis 27. aprillil 2009 pandeemia määratluse? Varem olid pandeemia deklareerimiseks hulga karmimad nõuded, nüüd piisab sellest, kui haigus on ilmnenud kahes MTO piirkonna riigis.

2. Kuidas on võimalik, et seagripi vaktsiini patent registreeriti 2007. aastal, seega palju varem kadunud kuulsa Hispaania 1918. aasta gripiepideemia kadunud viiruse taasilmumisest? (Rentsi lisa: kindel on see, et viirused jagavad tõesti sama tüve H1N1, nii et kui tegu pole ka päris sama haigusega, on need siiski väga lähedased sugulased. Lisainfo.)

3. Millise kokkusattumuse tagajärjel sai president Sarkozy juba 2009. aasta 2009. aastal nägemuse 100 miljoni eurose investeerimislepingu allkirjastamiseks, et toetada gripivaktsiinitehast? Juhuslikult asub tehas Mehhikos, kus pandeemia alguse sai. (Rentsi lisa: haigus “avastati” teatavasti ametlikult alles aprillis) 

4. Miks meedia ei tuleta inimestele meelde, et  tavaline gripp tapab igal aastal 250 kuni 500 tuhat inimest, s.t. üle tuhande surnu päevas (MTO ametlikud andmed). Lisaks, miks meedia korrutab iga päev, et A H1N1 gripp põhjustab massilist suremust, kuigi faktid näitavad, et tegu on tavalise gripiga? Viie kuu jooksul on seagripi tagajärjel surnud umbes 2000 inimest ja tavalise gripi tõttu umbes 200 tuhat. Arvutage. 

5. Miks on vaatamata suremuse arvudele (2000 vs 200 000) mitmed riigid tellinud tohututes kogustes vaktsiine juba alates 2009. aasta juunist? Miks pannakse paika erakorralisi meetmeid, kui gripilaine on vähemohtlik kui varasematel aastatel?

6.  Miks mitmetes riikides on juba rakendamisel erakorralised (=sõjaolukorra) seadused, ilma et nende sisu oleks avalikustatud? (Rentsi lisa: selle väite kohta oleks küll huvitav lisainfot lugeda)

7. Miks veebruaris 2009 kutsus Prantsusmaa siseminister kõik reservsõjaväelased ja sandarmid valmisolekule, sest “suured sotsiaalsed rahutused on ette näha 2009. aasta suve lõpus”? (Rentsi lisa: väidetavalt on see täpne tsitaat prantsuse ajakirjandusest, ilmselt “Le Journal du Dimanche’st”)

8. Miks ameerika sõjavägi on valmisolekul kogu USA territooriumil? (Rentsi lisa: ma arvasin, et need tõprad on alati valmis).

9. Miks üle 800 koonduslaagri on viimastel aastatel ehitatud USA territooriumile (momendil on need tühjad)? Miks neid haldab FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency), kes sekkub suurte katastroofide puhul USA territooriumil (nagu tsüklon Katrina puhul) ? (Rentsi lisa: ma ütlesin, et kisub vandenõuteooriaks ära)

10. Miks sadu tuhandeid kirste on erinevates osariikides ladudes seismas ja miks igas maakonnas on kaevatud ühishauad? (Rentsi lisa: vt. eelmist lisa)

11. Miks 600 Suurbritannia neuroloogi said 29 .juulil 2009. Konfidentsiaalse kirja Health Protection Agency (HPA) poolt, kes neid kutsub olema eriti ettevaatlik Guillain Barré sündroomi tulevase arvukuse tõusu suhtes (väga tõsine degeneratiivne neuroloogiline haigus, mis vallandub valdavalt pärast vaktsineerimist) ? Ja miks see sama agentuur ei ole teavitanud inimesi, kes « saab kasu » sellest vaktsineerimise kampaaniast? (Rentsi lisa: nii palju siis konfidentsiaalsusest)

12. Kuidas on võimalik, et 5. märtsil 2009., firma Baxter nakatas 72 kg vaktsineerimismaterjali, segades H5N1 linnugripi viiruse ja H3N2 tavalise inimese gripi viirusega enne kuude erinevasse riiki saatmist ,kas turvameetmed tagavad õnnetuse välistamise ? Võimatu, see tegu on tahtlik. Seda kinnitas mulle üks bioloogia professor.

13.  Miks meile ei räägita, et gripivaktsiin – mis on olemas juba 40 aastat – ei ole andnud kunagi positiivset toimet selle haiguse vältimiseks ja toimib isegi vastupidiselt? Rahvusvaheline uuring on näidanud, et vaktsineeritud populatsioonis on haigestumisi rohkem kui mitte vaktsineeritud grupis.

14. Miks varjatakse meie eest, et 1918. aastal surid vaktsineeritud inimesed Hispaania grippi ja ellu jäid mitte vaktsineeritud? Sellest võiks järeldada, et nad surid vaktsiini tagajärjel, mitte gripi tagajärjel?

15. Kui vaktsiinidel on nii vähe kõrvaltoimeid, kuidas siis tervishoiuinstantsid seletavad, et Prantsusmaal sclerosis multiplekside arv tõusis 25 tuhandelt 85 tuhandeni pärast B hepatiidi vaktsineerimise kampaaniat?

16. Miks varjatakse, et kõik XX saj. epideemiad on tekkinud pärast vaktsineerimiskampaaniaid? (Rentsi lisa: minu meelest on siiski olnud ka hulgim vaktsineerimisi, millele pole ühtki epideemiat järgnenud.)

17. Miks lubatakse lisada tulevasele H1N1gripi vaktsiinile lisaainet nagu skualeeni (proportsioonis üks miljon rohkem – ma kontrollisin üle arvutused kuna ma ei uskunud seda!) kui samas USA esindajate koda tunnistas, et see on Golfi sündroomi põhjustaja, sündroom, mis tekitas 180 tuhande GI haigestumise (25 % sõjaväelastest) pärast antraksivastast vaktsineerimist? Märkus : skualeen on ära keelatud föderaalkohtuniku poolt alates 2004. aastast!

18. Miks esimesed populatsioonid, keda vaktsineeritakse on rasedad ja lapsed, kui tavaliselt on vanurid sihtgrupiks? Viimaste puhul pidi neil olema immuunmälu Hispaania gripi suhtes!!! (Rentsi lisa: tegelikult oli 1918. aasta viiruse eripäraks just see, et see ohustas eelkõige noori inimesi)

19. Miks usaldatakse sundvaktsineerimise protseduurid vabatahtlikele üliõpilastele või sõjaväelastele ja mitte arstidele? Miks ükski arst ega haigla ei saa vaktsineerida? Kas nad kardavad valetsertifikaate?

20. Miks 50 % Inglismaa arstidest keelduvad vaktsineerimisest uue vaktsiiniga ? kas nad ei usalda uue vaktsiini ettevalmistamisprotseduuri?

21. Miks tutvustatakse Tamiflud kui tõhusat viirusevastast preparaati ,kuigi kõik selle toote kasutamise kampaaniad on osutunud mitte tõhusateks? Lisaks tekitab see ravim mitmeid psühholoogilisi ja neuroloogilisi häireid, kuni enesetappudeni välja, inimeste hulgas kes seda tarbivad.

22. Miks tervishoiu instantsid – kes tahavad meile head ja kaitset – lubavad uut tüüpi vaktsiini, mida testitakse otse sadade miljonite katseloomade peal (s.t. meie) ilma, et tavapärast turulelaskmise protokolli oleks järgitud ja ilma ühegi ohutuse garantiita? (Rentsi lisa: tuletan meelde, et Poolas tõesti testiti seda rahapuuduses asotsiaalide peal, kellest mitmed surid, nii et see väide ei ole sugugi nii kujundlik, kui meile meeldiks arvata)

Päris huvitavad, eksole? Kui sellest väheks jäi, võite juutuubist vaadata, kuidas endine tantsutüdruk nüüd peale vaktsineerimist tõmbleb, ja mõelda, miks sellest ometigi eriti ajakirjanduses ei räägita… Rents ise tahaks teada, miks kuradi pärast peaksime me end USA presidendi üleskutsel vaktsineerima, kui tema ise seda teinud pole ja ka oma lapsi ei vaktsineeri? Põhjendus, et tema perele vaktsiini ei jätku, on lihtsalt absurdne.

Tegime eile Adamiga pirukat. Ma ei tea muidugi, kas pirukas on päris õige sõna, aga tema jaoks on cake ja pie täiesti erinevad asjad ja eilne oli päris kindlasti pie, mille eestikeelne vaste on sõnaraamatu järgi pirukas. Mina teen kooke ja tema teeb pirukaid.

Vahe on näiteks selles, et mina keeran silma järgi vajalikud asjad kokku, lisan sooja (vahel isegi sulatatud) võid, panen ahju ja kui tundub, et on paraja tooniga, võtan jälle välja. Tema hoidis võid ja vett sügavkülmas, või lõigati väikesteks kuubikuteks ja lisati segades muule mandile, et see liiga ühes kohas koos oleks ja oleks tegu rohkem “helvestega”. Vett lisati lusikaga ja lõpuks panime 10 ja pool teelusikatäit, sest “10 on alati natuke vähe, aga 11 liiga palju”.  Seda asja pidi veel rullima, kusjuures hunniku mätsimisel pidi kätega ettevaatlik olema,  et või käte soojusest liigselt ei sulaks. Selline paras ajukepp ühesõnaga. Maitse tuli küll lõpuks ilgelt hea, aga ma ei viitsiks kunagi ise sellist vaeva näha. Selle pärast ei tule mul ka kunagi pannkoogid välja, et mul ei ole toitu valmistades piisavalt viitsimist pliidi ääres passida, eelistan neid hoopis Maša juures söömas käia.

Koristamine ka ei edene sugugi. Nõudepesemise vastu pole mul midagi – enam, sest umbes aasta aega peale nõudepesijana töötamist ei tahtnud ma enam musti nõusid näha kah, – aga koristamiseks pean ma ennast hirmsal kombel kokku võtma. Praegu on mul õnneks teataval määral moraalne õigus koduga seotud kohustused veidi rohkem K kaela lükata, aga muidu oli sellega alati jama, sest me mõlemad oleme üsna laisad ja kui ühel tuli koristamistuju, üritas ta alati ka teist kampa meelitada, mille tulemuseks oli umbes selline pilt nagu siis, kui te võtate kaks hästi kõva kivi, loobute igasugusest jahutegemise mõttest ja hakkate neid lihtsalt teineteise vastu taguma, et näha, kas kuidas sädemeid lendab.

Samas emainstinkt tundub mul kohati täitsa olemas olevat, sest kui mingid vääksud mulle juba kaela peale pandud on, suudan ma nende eest üsna talutavalt hoolitseda. Näiteks ärkasin ma mõlema koera puhul nende kutsikaeas iga nende liigutuse peale üles ja Oskari puhul esines mul isegi väike kanasündroom – alguses mõtlesin ma kogu aeg, kas ta norskamine on normaalne ja kui ta vanemaks sai ja nina kasvas, hakkasin öösiti üles ärkama selle peale, et ta EI norsanud. Korra käisin isegi kontrollimas, kas ta ikka hingab. Koerte hällisurmast pole küll kuulda olnud, aga iial ei või teada.

Inimlastest rääkides võib öelda, et tegelikult on Erik ja Epp ka hoidmisega üsna armsaks saanud. Ja kui paar päeva tagasi nägin, kuidas hunnik ca kahe aastakümne vanuseid poisse käituvad nagu viieaastased, tundus isegi see suht nunnu olevat ja mitte sugugi ainult selle pärast, et meie hispaania ja portugali vahetusüliõpilased ongi iga nurga alt armsad. Neil oli muidugi põhjust kah, sest nii uskumatu, kui see ka meie jaoks tundub, nägid na elus ESIMEST korda lund ja ma tahaks teada, kes suudaks sellises olukorras lumesõjast ja kilkamisest loobuda. Kui lumi jälle maha tuleb, peaks neile õpetama, kuidas lumememmesid tehakse.

P.S. Tagantjärele kõikidele isadele ka head isadepäeva! Loodetavasti on teie lapsed tublimad kui minu isa omad ja oskavad ikka teie arvutimängud tööle saada, sest meie vennaga feilisime eile selles haledalt.

Disgraced New York Governor Elliot Spitzer today appeared on MSNBC’s Morning Meeting with Dylan Ratigan .

I guess Ratigan and the powers to be at the station figured Spitzer an appropriate guest considering that Spitzer spent close to $100,000 on hookers over several years.

Think about it. If he was able to spend that much money and hide it from his wife, he must know a little something about finance.

Only in America can a man engage in criminal activity, disgrace his wife and family, be forced to resign from public office, still be called governor and still be a guest on a national talk show.

ONLY IN AMERICA….

I once saw a list of the funniest named places in the USA to live. I remember thinking to myself that I was proud to live where I did. Hooker, OK was the number 2 on the list. For the life of me, I can’t remember what number one was, but I do remember it was pretty funny when you named normal town activities. Hooker is full of those “puns” if you will. When you can donate money to the “Hooker Main Street program” somewhere in the back of my mind I’m wondering if that is moral. Or maybe it’s the legion baseball team, who chose as their mascot the Horny Toad. In any other town, this might go unnoticed, but when you see t-shirts for the “Hooker Horny Toads” you just can pass that by. One of my favorite, though, is sponsored by my home congregation. It happens once a year and is advertised in the local newspaper (of course titled the Hooker Advance). Again, no one would think a thing of a group of women gathering together at a local Church of Christ for time of worship, but when it is called the Hooker Ladies Day, one has to raise an eyebrow.

This weekend we have the opportunity to head back to my home town for a time of worship with area wide teens. The Hooker Youth Rally will start Saturday (Nov. 7th) at 6:30 pm and end Sunday (Nov. 8th) at 1:30 pm. Dinner, breakfast, and lunch are all provided by the church. We will be meeting at the church building (in Canyon) at 3:00 to load up. If you are interested in coming, make sure you bring a sleeping-bag, toiletries, and clothes for Sunday. You might want a few dollars in your pocket for a snack, and I would advise bringing a Bible (can’t go wrong with that). Your’s truly will be leading the signing and Tim Lyons (Youth Minister @ Elm & Hudson CoC in Altus, OK) a longtime friend of mine, will be giving us the message.

I’m looking forward to this time of worship with you. I hope you can join this weekend.

With Martin Johnson delaying his squad announcement until tomorrow due to yet another bout of injuries, we at In at The Corner thought we’d give the England manager a helping hand    

Glory Days: What price would an England fan pay for this pack now?

-assuming of course he reads this blog! As a prop forward who understands very little about what happens outside the scrum half, I have taken charge of selecting an effective bunch of English forwards to face down Australia. In my “best of the rest” starting pack I have omitted the English captain, Steve Borthwick, simply because I do not think he is playing good enough rugby. I do, of course, accept that he will be starting on Saturday so please indulge me with the selection of Simon Shaw at lock. I have also gone with the ‘traditional’ 22 man bench, because under IRB rulings Johnson is not obliged to provide three front row substitutions in the test arena – Might we see the sad sight of a ‘tactical’ uncontested scrum call on Saturday afternoon? Cynical? Me?

Front Row

The form English hooker at the moment?

With the entire first choice front row out of action due to injury or bans, it is at the coal face that Johnson has his first real selection dilemma. For some obscure reason I simply cannot fathom, Perry Freshwater is excluded from the EPS yet again, despite his superb scrummaging ability and aggression at the break down. The omission of David Flatman, too, is a strange one, so I can only really make the following choices. Davey Wilson gets the call up at tight head with Wasps loose head Tim Payne slipping into the number one jersey. To give this front row a competitive edge around the park, it is vital that Saints livewire Dylan Hartley starts.

Second Row

Lawes: The new Johnno?

Quite why the England management see fit to continue to appoint Steve Borthwick as skipper is beyond me, especially as it keeps a more competitive lock out of the starting XV. My engine room pairing of Simon Shaw and Nick Kennedy can combine a high work rate in the dark places with no small amount of athletic ability in the air and around the paddock. Courtney Lawes will benefit from an early taste of Test rugby, just like Martin Johnson and John Eales did. For this reason, and his form so far this season, he gets a seat on the bench.

Back Row

Tom Croft, Lewis Moody, Jordan Crane. The back row is one place where England can be competitive at the weekend, it is by picking an all Tigers back row. Lewis Moody will play himself to a standstill, and should largely negate the George Smith threat. If the England tight five can gain at least parity up front, this back row will shine.

Can he extend his form to the Test arena?

Substitutes

16. Steve Thompson. An emotional welcome back from the brink for the World Cup winner. Worthy of his place, playing some good rugby in France.

17. David Barnes. A solid lump of a prop that will have no problem with the Aussie front row if he is called upon.

18. Courtney Lawes. Blooding this man early could be the best investment in England’s future Johnno could make.

19. Joe Worsley. If all else fails, Joe’s defence could save England too much embarrassment.

Thompson: back after a 'career ending' neck injury wasn't.

Readers who tire of hearing of the Crone and the Cackler’s get together will be glad to learn that reports of the trip are drawing to an end. But there are some excellent photos, and it seems a shame not to share them with you.

A wet Monday found the duo glumly staring at the rain coming down in stair-rods and considering their options. The Cackler expressed a desire to see the White House which, that day, was to boast a pink ribbon in honor of breast cancer awareness. The thought of trekking to Jackson Place to see the home of the first family festooned in saturated satin filled the Crone with dread–until she remembered the Hotel Washington, licensed premises that overlook the White House.

It has been years since the Crone was last in the hotel and, during that time, it has very much changed for the better. It has been taken over by the W chain and is now the last word in opulence and style.

The downstairs lobby has pinstripe-suited soft furnishings cheekily supplemented by sofas upholstered in hooker high heel red patent. It makes the lounge look like it is filled with Members of Congress and Ladies of the Night. Tongue in cheek high taste–beyond that, the Crone couldn’t possibly comment.  The general ambience is French boudoir. It was all too much for the Cackler who had to sit down and order a nice cup of tea.

A velvet rope and a hostess bar the way to the lift for the roof terrace but, it being the middle of the day, the haggard and hungry managed to make the grade to ride roofward (at night, only the beautiful people are so elevated). Once upstairs, it was Kir Royales all round and the most delicious selection of appetizers–crab cakes, calamari and chicken samosas. They almost forgot to look out the window and over the White House.

She was a prostitute. A whore. A sex-trade worker and homeless. She was the type of throw-away woman homicide officers might scoff at, had she been murdered.

But she wasn’t. In fact one day soon she’ll be a certified social service worker.

From 1997 to 2005, Theresa Schrader, now 33, walked the streets around Islington and Lakeshore exchanging sex for cash with Toronto’s johns. Once the job was done, Theresa would gather herself and hurry off to her dealer.

Theresa Schrader was a crack addict, big time. Whitney Houston was right when she said, “crack is whack.” It is a highly addictive substance that actually cracks the lips and often empties the wallets and lives of those using.

It did. That’s all Theresa had. No home, sex for pay, crack for the day, and tomorrow — the same desperate schedule.

Theresa was born in Parrsboro, N.S. and raised in Liverpool, N.S. She was thrown out by her adoptive mom at 18. At 22, her newborn son was taken from her by Children’s Aid. At 23 she handed over another child.

Theresa’s life was horrible. Fate made it so. She helped it along.

One day Theresa bought a gun, planning to kill herself on Christmas. Eminem, the rapper, wrote in a song rock-bottom is when “this life makes you mad enough to kill.” In Theresa’s case her victim would have been herself.

On the way to pick up the gun the cops stymied her plans by arresting her for a misdemeanour. Theresa called that moment “divine intervention.” While in jail she decided suicide would ruin her holidays.

Had Theresa killed herself on that holy day it would have made sense. According to prostitution.com, a nonprofit organization that conducts research on prostitution, 75% of sex trade workers will attempt suicide. Theresa had tried before.

AWARD-WINNING PIECE

The study states: 80% of prostitutes have been raped, sometimes 10 times a year. Theresa was brutally raped by a john, a crime she describes in her award-winning piece for a creative writing contest for the homeless sponsored by Ve’ahavta.

Such is the life of a prostitute. Such were Theresa’s days and nights. She was a dishevelled and melancholy soul.

But that was then.

Today Theresa, through sheer bravery, support and thought, has stopped street walking and smoking crack. After years of abusing, Theresa accomplished something as difficult for a “normal person” to do as fighting off a fierce lion. She grew.

In 2009, Theresa is taking the Social Service Worker Program at George Brown College. She is raising a handsome three-year-old son with her “village” in Cabbagetown.

Theresa is a regular public speaker at the Toronto John School and through Voices from the Street, a charity facilitating public speaking for former homeless people. She is a mentor for women who walked the same streets she did, and has won countless academic awards from places such as the Yonge Street Mission.

Theresa, who will be a certified life coach at the end of June, is launching a consulting business and just aced her first mid-term exam.

Here is a snapshot of a girl who was abused, bullied, alienated, incarcerated, beaten, bruised and high on crack cocaine for a decade. Here is the life of a woman who was often with 10 men in a night.

Here is a short story of a beautiful human being who today is a role model for many men and women, a supported and supportive mom, a student, volunteer and multiple award winner.

Theresa is getting ready once again to reveal her tricks. This time on her website, where she will instruct other women how to gather the courage to get out of the trap she fell into. Stay tuned.

http://www.torontosun.com/comment/2009/11/02/11601391-sun.html

(This article appeared online and in the Toronto Sun newspaper on November 2, 2009. It is a piece about my friend, Theresa, who acted as my team’s Street Advisor during ‘3 Days on the Street’…a time in August, 2009 I spent with the homeless. Theresa shows us how growth works. Her life reflects the reality that no matter how bad it gets, or almost, humankind has the ability to come back, to make things better. I don’t purport for a moment to think that everyone’s situation allows them a better life. That would be irrational, but I would say that Theresa’s situation was  pretty lousy and she did it. So give it a shot, if you think your life stinks.

Ya Theresa. Way to go! You inspire us all!)