MSM = MainStream Media
Thanks to Alexa’s Tweets, here are two recent articles on sex work in the UK. Well, one is technically Ireland but still — they’re all across the pond.
As I said, I woke up Friday morning tired and in a very bad mood. I felt trapped. I was dying to just get out of the brothel.
That morning, as I pulled out of the parking lot of Bellaâ€™s Espresso House (where I had taken to eating breakfast), I glanced up the open, traffic-free highway 93. The open road â€“ and it led to someone I knew and wanted to see.
It took all my willpower to turn left and back to the brothel instead of continuing on. But I did. And I planned.
Wednesday was a very good day for me. I saw four men and all were very nice. I made good money and had fun (one bought the small Jacuzzi room, which was much more fun than I had thought it would be).
Just a great day all around. Smiling was involuntary.
I woke up tired due to all-night bell-ringing, slamming doors, talking, shouting, etc into the wee hours of the morning. I hadnâ€™t gotten a decent nightâ€™s sleep since I got here and I was waking up between 5:30 and 6:30am every morning whether I wanted to or not. It was beginning to show.
Then I had the brilliant idea of taking the day off and going to visit a nearby ghost town. I had my doctorâ€™s visit (the local perv-doctor) then I was told I could go stay in a hotel! Sleep!