Hello, is it me you’re looking for?

Thank you to the great Lionel Richie for those prolific words. Because sometimes I really do wonder if it’s me you want or if you are looking for an old tart with no self-worth who thinks she should be spoken to like a West Ham supporter talking to a Millwall fan.

I worry about you guy’s sometimes, I really do. I think that we should have a training session one day to give you some information on the kind of behavior and etiquette that a whore with any kind of a brain and an ounce of self respect demands before they would let you put your penis within a MILLION miles of their pleasure garden.

Take today for example. I answer the phone to ‘Are you working?’ No ‘Hello madam, I would like to inquire if I could sample your ample charms’ or ‘ Hello, my name is ……. are you free?’ In a similar vain I often get ‘What are you prices’ and ‘Where are you’ and ‘How big are your tits?’ I mean that mating call may work down in Romford where there is no greater expectation then a kebab, half a shandy and a bunk up in a gutter somewhere, but for me you need slightly more finesse. Now I am not making any great claims to being a high class call girl who speaks like her Majesty and dines on Waitrose finest every day (that’s high class to me), but I do like to be treated with some respect. I mean if you don’t respect the women you are PAYING to slide your manhood into then it doesn’t really say much for you does it?

If you treat someone like a dog, you’re going to get….a dog.