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Prostitution hurts women. It doesn’t matter whether the trade in commercial rape is legal or not – reducing women to the role of fuckable object corrodes their body, mind, and soul.
But it can’t be all that bad for everyone, right? Let’s see what Rae Story, one of the ‘lucky’ high class escorts has to say on her experiences.
“Towards the end of my work as an “escort” I was thoroughly exhausted. The brothel work had been brutal on my body, but the “independent escort” work had exhausted my spirit. Whereas once I just ran the gamut of garden-variety sexual activities with, at best, a distant smile and a “good day to you,” I now had been obsessing over my appearance, my apartment, my advertising, and my “image” as well. I’d been made to adopt the most insidious of all contracts: The Girlfriend Experience — winsome, involved, overly nurturing, and available. Intelligent enough to understand but never enough to contradict. Lying to “clients” about my background, my views, and my habits in order to demonstrate a pleasing personhood for the paying male ego.
Friends had also left brothels in droves and began to navigate this landscape of pretense for themselves. According to “clients,” we didn’t drink heavily, smoke, do drugs, swear, speak coarsely (other than at appropriate sexual moments) argue, have opinions, or refuse to gratify. In truth, most of the women I knew had problems with drink, drugs, eating disorders, mental health problems, and anger issues. We may not have been routinely beaten by punters or raped (although it does happen), but our self-esteem and self-assurance was as paper thin as our digital platforms.We pretended to be happy, empowered, sexy, and comfortable in our roles as sponges for immediate male satisfaction while pushing our maladies and distresses down the sides of the sofa… just like those women detailed by Betty Friedan: isolated housewives, secretly quaffing vodka and pills to deal with their controlled misery. In each of our separate apartments, the “high class escorts” I knew were indeed like those housewives, only now it was more than one “husband” we served to keep a roof over our heads.”
— Rae Story
It would seem that centring your existence around pleasing of others (men) – the traditional and expected role for females – is a shit job no matter how you package it.
[Source]
I hear beautiful music on the CKUA morning show, and then I have to share it, and furtively download the sheet music so I can reconfirm that is way above my grade level. :)
“It is common practice in the drafting of the oboe concerto by Alessandro Marcello, resorting in the second set on a decorated version of Johann Sebastian Bach. This comes from BWV 974 and provides an Italian of 16 edits concertos for harpsichord solo, which fall Bach anfertigte to 1713th
In studying the harpsichord version is noted that Bach not only the Oboe (and this not only in the slow movement) changed, but partially massively intervened in the accompaniment in the original work.
Some detail changes are solely due to the instrumentation, for example, Trill on long notes, chords, and the omission of the most repeated phrases that are played by the violins in the original one by the oboe and again.
Of course, the retransmission of the harpsichord version in the original cast, the risk of generating instrument specifically atypical phrases harbors. The insight into Bach’s employment with Italian music, its exact notation of ornaments otherwise usually free running and the mastery with which he has enriched with small interventions the composition, that risk is worth it.”
Glosswitch is on a roll as of late.











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