Tag Archives: career

My Hypothetical Life as a Sex Worker

Don’t jump to conclusions, FBI. I’m not a prostitute.

However, I’d be lying if I said I never thought about it. Upscale hookers could make like $3k in a night. Do I make that in a month? I don’t want to answer that question.

I owe approximately a BAJILLION dollars to Sallie Mae and other federal/state loan companies I whored my debt onto and sold my soul to for an education. If I was an escort for ONE NIGHT a week and made, say, $1k-2k each time, I’d pay of all that debt off in no time.

Downpayment on a house? NO PROBLEMO, brah. I’d work 2-3 times a week and that money’s in the BANK, dude. Then I could spend the rest of my time working part-time as a writer. All my whore stories would eventually buy me an awesome book deal.

Now, my Catholic upbringing would never allow me to do this. If I got paid for sex ONE TIME, I’d fear the wrath of God coming down from the heavens to blacken my already-charred human soul. Saint Peter would shake his head and then shun me from ever entering the pearly gates of heaven. He’d white-out my name from his list of “Ones to be Saved” for eternity.

But, that’s just me. In another life and in another world I’d do it. (Haha “do it”! Get it? I’m so funny, aren’t I?)

I’d be the happy hooker, like Julia Roberts in Pretty Women, except I wouldn’t walk the streets. It’d be more of a referral-based type of hookering (Or is it ‘hooking’?). I’d create a solid base of clientele and work only for myself. I’ve got good business sense and I wouldn’t want to give anybody else a cut of MY cha-ching, ya know?

So, would you ever sell your bod to pay bills? Have you thought about it?

Image courtesy of this random website I found via google search

4 Comments

Filed under L-O-V-E, Work

Pretty %$#(ing Bitchy, Dude

Ok, so I dont think I ever really became a bitch until I started to work full-time. This is because I was less miserable in life when I was living like a fucking LA rapper in college with parties 24/7 and no real job or debt. Now, it’s harder NOT to be a bitch when I go into work to make stupid small talk about weekend plans and the weather instead of crawling out of bed at 11AM to smoke weed through the upstairs bathroom vents.

I’m mostly a bitch because of the things I don’t say or react to more so than from being confrontational or having an attitude. I can’t control or fake reactions to stupid things people say or do that they consider funny. My college-self would be able to produce a seemingly-genuine belly laugh or at least a smile, whereas my real world self now grunts, turns around and stares into the computer screen as if there is work to do.

Thus, I’ve become some sort of a bitch.

I know it could be worse with all of this “Occupy” shit going on, but I’m finding it harder and harder to not run out of my office and crawl back into bed. Gahhhh

Leave a comment

Filed under Work