Friday 3 December 2010

Crack whores in twin sets and bum cracks in cabs, dew drops on noses and whisky on baps, coke in brown paper that's tied up with string, these are a few of my favorite things. Your humming this aren't you...

I am getting a better class of  artificially sexed up females high on crack, smack, coke and a smoke in the cab these days. Classic fashion statements are De rigueur for your average local crack whore. She is dressed in refinements, twin sets and good shoes...and a nice handbag. A perfect complexion that's straight out of the most expensive tin she could buy. Not your usual depiction of a crack whore is it? But with a decent disposable income, it separates you from the skank with more skin showing than clothing...or does it?



It's generally drugs that drives these women to offer the sometimes unofferable, they often want to fuck and it's gotta happen now. Now I doubt its the close proximity to my fabulous aftershave, or my perfectly manicured nails and expensive brogues that's causing these well dressed druggies to be so readily moistened and act so inappropriately.  In general, my normally well turned out good self, attracts the fifty something gay man that wants to be my daddy.

____________________________________________________________
"admittedly without a drug testing kit and their written permission it's hard to tell what these moist pantied lovelies are on at all sometimes."
____________________________________________________________

Probably the cause of this behaviour is more likely to be the poor quality of chemically produced alcopophol, and your good old honest crack cocaine that instigates the fumbling of false nailed fingers grabbing my jewels, but admittedly without a drug testing kit and their written permission it's hard to tell what these moist pantied lovelies are on at all.


It may well be that in times of austerity it brings out another new culture of refinement, I think back to the well and expensively dressed teddy boys and girls of the fifties, oh what drugged up fiends they were hmm?


I also can't tell who is going to run off without paying, or who's going to get violent, these acts of lawlessness were normally reserved for the young and daring, or students. There isn't a "type" anymore. I can't look out for someone "dodgy" I'm more likely to get scammed or beaten by men in a lovely worsted single breasted Italian suit with the made by hand label in Italian still attached to the sleeve. Hoodies tend to wear "hoods" because that's what most sports shops sell these days.


It's normal now for me to do the early evening drug run, the twin setted females and clone labelled men getting their orders in for the night, I pick up Mr X and friend (there's always "a friend") from a vague address and take him to another corner of another road, wait, then take them to another vague address to drop off the "playstation-xpoxy game" that their "mate" wants.


What about the skanky looking ho types dressed in nothing but a belt and a handkerchief then?  Nah! They're wearing what the Nextnewprimart Look group tell 'em to wear... Clothing is designed to shock any parents generation, anyway, the average teen or early twenty something wouldn't be seen dead dressed in sensible crack whore clothing now would they?




Until next time...

No comments:

Post a Comment

The Bench He Never Sat on

   Not a random bench, the actual bench. I bought a bench before my step father died. I put it under a tree, it was to be a place I could ta...