Pat is a middle-aged woman who I have seen on the Common for many years. She often offered herself to me but I always declined. I remember once she sat next to me on a park bench and explained how she would take men back to her flat in Stockwell. She asked me if I had a pen and some paper and she wrote down her phone number and the rough position of her flat.
She asked me why I didn't want to go with her. Pat seems a nice person and I wanted to be honest with her. I said that I prefer the younger ones like K. and N. She said "I'm not old!" indignantly. I told her that she is not old, but that I just prefer the younger ones.
I don't know how long ago this was, but I saw her again early this year, and she remembered me. I have walked through Tooting Bec Common several times this year on my way to the centre of London. I had not expected to see any women there. I saw an African woman once and a few weeks later I saw Pat. I went and sat next to her and we talked. She said that when I had said to her that I liked younger women like K. and N. she had worried that I might have got robbed. Such women are not safe.
She offered to take me to her flat. I think my curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to see what she had to offer. I asked her if she did oral sex without a condom. She said she did. We had to get two buses to get to her flat, and on one of them a young woman said to her "Hello, you". It was someone she knew from the Common, a young woman who I did not recognize. She was younger and more attractive than Pat. They talked a bit and the woman said that she had not been going to the Common because it just seemed to be the police there now.
We got off the bus and went to her block of flats. Her flat was quite tidy and pleasant enough. I gave her the money, which was twenty pounds. I took off my clothes and lay on her bed. I asked her to give me oral sex without a condom. She didn't want to do it. When I pressed her she said she would try if I gave her more money. I gave her the change in my pocket but she still would not do it. Neither would she let me finger her. So it was a disappointment for me.
I think she had told me that she did oral sex without a condom because she was a bit desperate to get a punter. She guessed that I would not have gone with her if she had been honest with me. I don't think she is a drug addict. It wouldn't surprise me if she was a drinker or if she was on tranquillizers.
I continued my journey to the centre of London. I decided to go and see a woman in Soho who does oral sex without a condom. Most prostitutes in Soho do not give this service, but one place in Greek Street has a couple of women who do. This is not the place in Greek Street that has been called 'the slaughter house'.
I have been to Soho many times recently. There are many places nearer to where I live, but for some reason they seem to be much less value for money. There are some beautiful healthy-looking women in Soho.
I went to the Common a couple of days ago. I was there for an hour or so but did not see any prostitutes. It was a sunny warm day and in the old days I could have expected to see a few. I cannot say that I will never go to Tooting Bec Common again because it is a nice place to be. If I go to Streatham and it is a sunny warm day I will go to the Common too. Or if I am walking through on my way to central London.
However, Soho is more important to me now. I could tell you things about Soho.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Corrinne's story
When I first started going to Tooting Bec Common about nine years ago there were many more women there and many women who were not drug addicts.
One of the women was French and she always had her bike with her. The first time I remember doing anything with Corrinne I told her that I would give her a tenner if she let me finger her. She wasn't happy with this small amount of money. Many of the women would say that they did not do anything for less than twenty, although some would relent. We found somewhere in the bushes and I got two fingers inside her.
I didn't see her for a long time, but she remembered me. I was walking along the main road in Streatham and she was coming out of a side street. I looked at her and would have said hello but she just glared at me.
The next time I saw her on the Common she was coming towards me pushing her bicycle but when she saw me she turned away and went away from me. I walked in the same direction as her and saw her talking to two old men sitting on a park bench. She seemed to know them. There was room on the bench and I sat there and listened in on their conversation. She was saying that she didn't like men who were only willing to offer ten pounds. I thought if she doesn't want their business, all she has to do was to say no.
One of the men told her that Katy was back on the Common. He said something about drugs and said he was glad Corrinne did not do them. Corrinne said that she did take crack but that she didn't let it get out of control.
It was years before I saw Corrinne again, but I saw her on the Common last year. She was quite happy to go with me into the bushes for ten pounds. She said that the police were a big problem now but we found somewhere secluded. I remembered her, but I did not expect her to remember me. She had vague memories of me, she remembered that she had been with me before, but she did not remember that she had disliked me.
A few weeks after I saw Corrinne, I read in my local newspaper about a drug addict called Corrinne who was caught shoplifting. The headline was “Judge orders shoplifter to get drugs help as a priority”. I thought that there can't be many drug addicts in south London called Corrinne. The age given in the paper was 34. This sounds about right. The surname given was 'Fummell'. It's not a French name, but she could have married an English man.
I have been spelling her name 'Corrinne' because that is how it was spelled in the newspaper article, but I think it is more likely that it would be 'Corrine' or 'Corinne'.
One of the women was French and she always had her bike with her. The first time I remember doing anything with Corrinne I told her that I would give her a tenner if she let me finger her. She wasn't happy with this small amount of money. Many of the women would say that they did not do anything for less than twenty, although some would relent. We found somewhere in the bushes and I got two fingers inside her.
I didn't see her for a long time, but she remembered me. I was walking along the main road in Streatham and she was coming out of a side street. I looked at her and would have said hello but she just glared at me.
The next time I saw her on the Common she was coming towards me pushing her bicycle but when she saw me she turned away and went away from me. I walked in the same direction as her and saw her talking to two old men sitting on a park bench. She seemed to know them. There was room on the bench and I sat there and listened in on their conversation. She was saying that she didn't like men who were only willing to offer ten pounds. I thought if she doesn't want their business, all she has to do was to say no.
One of the men told her that Katy was back on the Common. He said something about drugs and said he was glad Corrinne did not do them. Corrinne said that she did take crack but that she didn't let it get out of control.
It was years before I saw Corrinne again, but I saw her on the Common last year. She was quite happy to go with me into the bushes for ten pounds. She said that the police were a big problem now but we found somewhere secluded. I remembered her, but I did not expect her to remember me. She had vague memories of me, she remembered that she had been with me before, but she did not remember that she had disliked me.
A few weeks after I saw Corrinne, I read in my local newspaper about a drug addict called Corrinne who was caught shoplifting. The headline was “Judge orders shoplifter to get drugs help as a priority”. I thought that there can't be many drug addicts in south London called Corrinne. The age given in the paper was 34. This sounds about right. The surname given was 'Fummell'. It's not a French name, but she could have married an English man.
I have been spelling her name 'Corrinne' because that is how it was spelled in the newspaper article, but I think it is more likely that it would be 'Corrine' or 'Corinne'.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Trina's story
I have been part of an internet group for a few months. The members of this group are all men who are interested in street girls. It was here that I found the photographs that I put on this blog a while back, photographs of street girls from the Kings Cross area. It was also here that I got the phone number of Trina.
Trina has been described as giving the best blow job in south London and she lives in the same area of south London as me. So I was tempted to get her number from one of the other members of the group. The person I chose wanted a phone number in return, and I gave him the number of one of the women I had met on TB Common.
I phoned Trina straight away and she agreed to meet me, although she seemed a bit reluctant because she did not know me. The people that she lived with did not know what she did, she said, and so it was difficult for her to speak openly on the phone. She told me to go to her road and then phone again. Then she came out to meet me. She was very tall and quite pretty, much nicer than most of the women I had met on the Common on recent years. Trina looked about 20.
She took me back to her flat, which looked like a squat. It wasn't squalid, just very bare. She said that there were other people in the flat but that they would be leaving soon. I gave her some money and she went out of the room. She didn't come back for a time and I could hear her talking to somebody. She came back into the room but then went off again. I felt quite uneasy.
Then she came and sat next to me on the bed. She started to kiss me on the mouth. I told her I was surprised that she did 'French' kissing. We kissed for a time, using tongues, and then she undid my belt. She started sucking my cock, without putting on a condom. This went on for a few minutes, but then she jumped up and went to the door because somebody was there.
A big black man came into the room with a broom in his hand. He introduced himself as Ian and said he looks after the girls here. He wanted to know what I wanted with her. I told him we were just talking but he didn't seem satisfied with that. Trina told him that all I wanted was a blow job. This seemed to satisfy him and he went off. When I was alone with Trina I said “What the hell was all that about?”
She seemed to want to continue but I said no. I said I would give her a phone call some time and I went off. I posted what had happened in the group and a couple of people said that something similar had happened to them with Trina. It didn't seem to make any sense to me. All she had to do was to finish me off and then I would have been a happy customer. I should have realized that this kind of logic does not work with drug addicts.
With most people, even people without morals, I usually rely on their sense of self-interest. I would have thought that Trina would have tried to make me happy so that I would have wanted to see her again and she would have had more money that way. However, with drug addicts their sense of self-interest often works only in the short term. Their actions often counteract their long-term interests. This makes them seem to me to be unpredictable and even dangerous. But I hadn't quite learned this lesson yet.
I asked the man who gave me her number if he thought it would be a good idea for me to invite her to come to my flat. He told me that he had never had a problem with her. I also asked the other men in the group and they said to do so would be asking for trouble. They said take her to a hotel instead.
One afternoon I sent Trina a text, asking her if she wanted to come to my flat. There was no reply, so after an hour or two I went out. I had been out for a couple of hours when I got a text from her, saying she would like to meet me. I was far away from home by this time and wanted to continue my walk so I texted her back to say it would have to be another time. Also I was beginning to get cold feet. She sent me many texts that afternoon and I had to explain to her why I could not see her that day.
I did see her another day. I met her at the end of her road. She asked me to give her the money and I explained to her that I could not do that because I had had women walk off with my money before. While we were walking along the road I tried to make conversation and I asked her if she knew D., the local girl who I wrote about at the beginning of this blog. She said that she did. She said that D. was 'a bit mad'.
I also asked her if she knew N., another woman that I wrote about in this blog. She said that she did know a N., but I don't think it was the same one. The last two times I met N. it was not on the Common but in a different area of south London not far from the area where I live.
When I got Trina to my flat it worked out quite well. She would not take her jeans off, but pulled them down. She told me it was because her boyfriend had beaten her up and she had bruises. I took a couple of photographs of her. She was reluctant to let me take a photograph that included her face, but then said that as a special treat I could take one of her face and breasts. However, the batteries went on my camera so that did not work.
It was a while before I invited her back to my flat. I was looking out of my window when I saw her come up to the block of flats on a bike. I was disturbed by her appearance. When I saw her face the first thing I thought of was Nosferatu (a vampire figure in an old horror film). I remembered that a few years ago on the Common I saw N. look like that.
I went to the door of the block of flats. She said she had her friend with her and that he would take the money and then go off on the bike while we went into my flat. I should have said to her that her bringing a man with her was unacceptable. I should have used this as an excuse to get her to go away because I did not fancy her in her condition.
What happened was history repeating itself. Just as with K. a few years ago, I was so surprised and disturbed by her appearance that I could not think straight. I gave her some money, she went to give it to her 'friend' and did not come back. I did not want her to come back.
It was a great pity that it worked out like this. I am sad that she has entered this hell. I am not angry with her. It would have been nice if she had stayed pretty and come to my flat sometimes. I could have snogged and gently fingered her, things that most prostitutes do not allow but I like best of all. But then again when you think what goes into her mouth perhaps it's not such a good thing. She did not charge much money. I never did get my wonderful blow job; the one time she was in my flat I was not relaxed enough to achieve an orgasm. If I had become a regular client of hers it could have worked out well.
Many months after this she started texting me again. She said that she was sorry for what she had done and wanted to come to my flat again. I did not reply to her. I turned off my mobile. When I turned it back on again there were many texts from her. She seemed desperate to make some money. One of the texts said that she was making her way over to my flat. I have never seen her again.
Trina has been described as giving the best blow job in south London and she lives in the same area of south London as me. So I was tempted to get her number from one of the other members of the group. The person I chose wanted a phone number in return, and I gave him the number of one of the women I had met on TB Common.
I phoned Trina straight away and she agreed to meet me, although she seemed a bit reluctant because she did not know me. The people that she lived with did not know what she did, she said, and so it was difficult for her to speak openly on the phone. She told me to go to her road and then phone again. Then she came out to meet me. She was very tall and quite pretty, much nicer than most of the women I had met on the Common on recent years. Trina looked about 20.
She took me back to her flat, which looked like a squat. It wasn't squalid, just very bare. She said that there were other people in the flat but that they would be leaving soon. I gave her some money and she went out of the room. She didn't come back for a time and I could hear her talking to somebody. She came back into the room but then went off again. I felt quite uneasy.
Then she came and sat next to me on the bed. She started to kiss me on the mouth. I told her I was surprised that she did 'French' kissing. We kissed for a time, using tongues, and then she undid my belt. She started sucking my cock, without putting on a condom. This went on for a few minutes, but then she jumped up and went to the door because somebody was there.
A big black man came into the room with a broom in his hand. He introduced himself as Ian and said he looks after the girls here. He wanted to know what I wanted with her. I told him we were just talking but he didn't seem satisfied with that. Trina told him that all I wanted was a blow job. This seemed to satisfy him and he went off. When I was alone with Trina I said “What the hell was all that about?”
She seemed to want to continue but I said no. I said I would give her a phone call some time and I went off. I posted what had happened in the group and a couple of people said that something similar had happened to them with Trina. It didn't seem to make any sense to me. All she had to do was to finish me off and then I would have been a happy customer. I should have realized that this kind of logic does not work with drug addicts.
With most people, even people without morals, I usually rely on their sense of self-interest. I would have thought that Trina would have tried to make me happy so that I would have wanted to see her again and she would have had more money that way. However, with drug addicts their sense of self-interest often works only in the short term. Their actions often counteract their long-term interests. This makes them seem to me to be unpredictable and even dangerous. But I hadn't quite learned this lesson yet.
I asked the man who gave me her number if he thought it would be a good idea for me to invite her to come to my flat. He told me that he had never had a problem with her. I also asked the other men in the group and they said to do so would be asking for trouble. They said take her to a hotel instead.
One afternoon I sent Trina a text, asking her if she wanted to come to my flat. There was no reply, so after an hour or two I went out. I had been out for a couple of hours when I got a text from her, saying she would like to meet me. I was far away from home by this time and wanted to continue my walk so I texted her back to say it would have to be another time. Also I was beginning to get cold feet. She sent me many texts that afternoon and I had to explain to her why I could not see her that day.
I did see her another day. I met her at the end of her road. She asked me to give her the money and I explained to her that I could not do that because I had had women walk off with my money before. While we were walking along the road I tried to make conversation and I asked her if she knew D., the local girl who I wrote about at the beginning of this blog. She said that she did. She said that D. was 'a bit mad'.
I also asked her if she knew N., another woman that I wrote about in this blog. She said that she did know a N., but I don't think it was the same one. The last two times I met N. it was not on the Common but in a different area of south London not far from the area where I live.
When I got Trina to my flat it worked out quite well. She would not take her jeans off, but pulled them down. She told me it was because her boyfriend had beaten her up and she had bruises. I took a couple of photographs of her. She was reluctant to let me take a photograph that included her face, but then said that as a special treat I could take one of her face and breasts. However, the batteries went on my camera so that did not work.
It was a while before I invited her back to my flat. I was looking out of my window when I saw her come up to the block of flats on a bike. I was disturbed by her appearance. When I saw her face the first thing I thought of was Nosferatu (a vampire figure in an old horror film). I remembered that a few years ago on the Common I saw N. look like that.
I went to the door of the block of flats. She said she had her friend with her and that he would take the money and then go off on the bike while we went into my flat. I should have said to her that her bringing a man with her was unacceptable. I should have used this as an excuse to get her to go away because I did not fancy her in her condition.
What happened was history repeating itself. Just as with K. a few years ago, I was so surprised and disturbed by her appearance that I could not think straight. I gave her some money, she went to give it to her 'friend' and did not come back. I did not want her to come back.
It was a great pity that it worked out like this. I am sad that she has entered this hell. I am not angry with her. It would have been nice if she had stayed pretty and come to my flat sometimes. I could have snogged and gently fingered her, things that most prostitutes do not allow but I like best of all. But then again when you think what goes into her mouth perhaps it's not such a good thing. She did not charge much money. I never did get my wonderful blow job; the one time she was in my flat I was not relaxed enough to achieve an orgasm. If I had become a regular client of hers it could have worked out well.
Many months after this she started texting me again. She said that she was sorry for what she had done and wanted to come to my flat again. I did not reply to her. I turned off my mobile. When I turned it back on again there were many texts from her. She seemed desperate to make some money. One of the texts said that she was making her way over to my flat. I have never seen her again.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
encounters with women with problems
I got off the bus earlier this week near to where I live and I saw a woman who could barely walk. She looked as if she was about to collapse. I went up to her and said are you OK. I said to her come and sit on the wall with me and I tried to talk to her.
She started crying and said that she had lost all of her money and would not have any more for a week or so. I said to her "Have you spent all of your money on drugs?". She said no, everybody seems to think that she is on drugs but she doesn't take drugs.
She couldn't even sit up straight on the wall she seemed to be so tired and about to collapse. She took out some sweets from her pocket and tried to eat one. She said she hadn't had anything to eat all day. She seemed very confused and disorientated.
It was getting dark and I tried to find out about her. I asked her if she knew where she lived but she didn't seem to be making any sense. She said that she had been robbed and that her boyfriend was abusive and must have spiked her with a drug that morning.
I had the number of the local police on my mobile but when I tried to ring it there was no reply. I didn't think she could just be left on the street in her condition. I rang 999 because I didn't know what else to do. When the police came the first thing she said was that she is a heroin addict. I asked if they knew her.
They told me there was nothing they could do for her and so I just had to walk away. I told them what she had told me about getting robbed and spiked but they said this was rubbish. I looked back to see what had happened to her. She was striding away from the police so she had obviously perked up.
I can now see that she was telling me things that were not true, but I believe her distress, confusion and disorientation were real. I would have given her a bit of money for her to get home or something to eat if she had been honest with me. I did give her a bit of loose change.
I have not seen a woman in this condition before, although I have met lots of drug addicts. I don't know if she was mentally ill, or if taking drugs has made her mentally ill or if the addiction itself can be thought of as a mental illness. I watched the film 'The Magdalene Sisters' which shows young women incarcerated for basically nothing. Of course this is bad but in our society we have gone in the opposite direction and leave women on the streets in danger of attack, rape, hypothermia, addiction to drugs and alcohol, and STDs. Also they don't take their medication and so have untreated mental illness.
Last year in the summer I was walking along Greek Street in Soho when I saw a woman standing on the kerb. She looked about 30. She was wearing a hooded jacket that seemed to big for her and inappropriate for the warm weather. She was carrying a number of carrier bags some of which seemed empty. She looked homeless.
When I came back along the same road about half an hour later she was still standing in the same spot. I went up to her and asked if she was OK. I asked her if I could buy her a coffee or something. I asked her if she knew anywhere we could go for a coffee.
She led me off to Charing Cross Road and into the local Sainsbury's there. The security guard immediately stopped her and said that she knew she wasn't allowed in there. She pointed to me and said that I would be paying. The guard escorted her back onto the street and explained to me that she had been caught shoplifting before and he thought there was something wrong with her.
She then led me briskly south along Charing Cross Road, not looking to see if I was following. At one point I stopped and let her walk on but after a few paces she turned and said that we were nearly there. She took me to a fast food outlet and started ordering something. I paid for it and also a coffee for myself.
I sat opposite her and she seemed to be intent on eating, although quite slowly. I asked her what her name was and she said 'Langdon' although I doubt that this is her real name. I asked her who looks after her and she said the NHS. I tried to find out about her. At one point I got her to smile. She was quite attractive and child like.
I'm not sure what is wrong with her but my guess is autism. There is a hostel at the north end of Greek Street so I am not sure if she was living there. A couple of months later I saw her again at the southern end of Greek Street. I went up to her and asked if she remembered me. She said she did but it was obvious that she did not want to talk to me. She seemed frightened of me.
I did not anticipate that this could happen. The only thing I could think of was that she said something to somebody - perhaps the staff at the hostel - about how a man had bought her something to eat, and that they had told her this was dangerous.
It's a pity because I would have bought her something else to eat and I would never have tried to have any kind of sexual contact with her. She was obviously not being looked after where she was, getting into trouble with the police and not getting enough to eat. I'm sure that there would be many people in that area who would give her a helping hand without trying to abuse her so it would be a pity if someone has tried to make her afraid of strangers.
She started crying and said that she had lost all of her money and would not have any more for a week or so. I said to her "Have you spent all of your money on drugs?". She said no, everybody seems to think that she is on drugs but she doesn't take drugs.
She couldn't even sit up straight on the wall she seemed to be so tired and about to collapse. She took out some sweets from her pocket and tried to eat one. She said she hadn't had anything to eat all day. She seemed very confused and disorientated.
It was getting dark and I tried to find out about her. I asked her if she knew where she lived but she didn't seem to be making any sense. She said that she had been robbed and that her boyfriend was abusive and must have spiked her with a drug that morning.
I had the number of the local police on my mobile but when I tried to ring it there was no reply. I didn't think she could just be left on the street in her condition. I rang 999 because I didn't know what else to do. When the police came the first thing she said was that she is a heroin addict. I asked if they knew her.
They told me there was nothing they could do for her and so I just had to walk away. I told them what she had told me about getting robbed and spiked but they said this was rubbish. I looked back to see what had happened to her. She was striding away from the police so she had obviously perked up.
I can now see that she was telling me things that were not true, but I believe her distress, confusion and disorientation were real. I would have given her a bit of money for her to get home or something to eat if she had been honest with me. I did give her a bit of loose change.
I have not seen a woman in this condition before, although I have met lots of drug addicts. I don't know if she was mentally ill, or if taking drugs has made her mentally ill or if the addiction itself can be thought of as a mental illness. I watched the film 'The Magdalene Sisters' which shows young women incarcerated for basically nothing. Of course this is bad but in our society we have gone in the opposite direction and leave women on the streets in danger of attack, rape, hypothermia, addiction to drugs and alcohol, and STDs. Also they don't take their medication and so have untreated mental illness.
Last year in the summer I was walking along Greek Street in Soho when I saw a woman standing on the kerb. She looked about 30. She was wearing a hooded jacket that seemed to big for her and inappropriate for the warm weather. She was carrying a number of carrier bags some of which seemed empty. She looked homeless.
When I came back along the same road about half an hour later she was still standing in the same spot. I went up to her and asked if she was OK. I asked her if I could buy her a coffee or something. I asked her if she knew anywhere we could go for a coffee.
She led me off to Charing Cross Road and into the local Sainsbury's there. The security guard immediately stopped her and said that she knew she wasn't allowed in there. She pointed to me and said that I would be paying. The guard escorted her back onto the street and explained to me that she had been caught shoplifting before and he thought there was something wrong with her.
She then led me briskly south along Charing Cross Road, not looking to see if I was following. At one point I stopped and let her walk on but after a few paces she turned and said that we were nearly there. She took me to a fast food outlet and started ordering something. I paid for it and also a coffee for myself.
I sat opposite her and she seemed to be intent on eating, although quite slowly. I asked her what her name was and she said 'Langdon' although I doubt that this is her real name. I asked her who looks after her and she said the NHS. I tried to find out about her. At one point I got her to smile. She was quite attractive and child like.
I'm not sure what is wrong with her but my guess is autism. There is a hostel at the north end of Greek Street so I am not sure if she was living there. A couple of months later I saw her again at the southern end of Greek Street. I went up to her and asked if she remembered me. She said she did but it was obvious that she did not want to talk to me. She seemed frightened of me.
I did not anticipate that this could happen. The only thing I could think of was that she said something to somebody - perhaps the staff at the hostel - about how a man had bought her something to eat, and that they had told her this was dangerous.
It's a pity because I would have bought her something else to eat and I would never have tried to have any kind of sexual contact with her. She was obviously not being looked after where she was, getting into trouble with the police and not getting enough to eat. I'm sure that there would be many people in that area who would give her a helping hand without trying to abuse her so it would be a pity if someone has tried to make her afraid of strangers.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
I went to TB Common this week
I went to TB Common this week. I didn't expect to meet anyone there, not in the middle of winter. I don't just go there to meet women. I went into the bushes to have a piss. There are not many leaves on the bushes and a lot of the undergrowth has been cut away so there are not many secluded places left.
I found a place that had been used by street-girls. I saw an improvised crack pipe. I had noticed the same thing in the same position last week, but this is the first time I have ever seen drugs paraphernalia on the common ever. It is not true, as has been reported on TV, that drugs equipment is found all over the common. I also noticed a used condom hanging from a twig in the same position as last week and a lot of shit.
Someone has been smoking crack and shitting in the bushes. This is a new development. I thought perhaps there must be a disturbed woman around. Last week I did meet a woman. She was a middle-aged African woman, quite plump. Quite well-dressed, didn't look like an addict. I spoke to her but didn't go with her.
Because the mess does not get cleaned up it is easy to think that there is a greater accumulation of used condoms and other items than is in fact the case. If people are so worried about children seeing drug equipment, then why don't they make sure it is cleared away? Not that most people, especially children, would know what a crack pipe is. If a crack pipe is made of rubbish then it looks like rubbish. People don't usually go into the undergrowth anyway.
Cutting away the undergrowth may seem a good plan to stop prostitutes. The effect of it may be to force women to get into men's cars more often, thus making their lives more dangerous.
There will also be an effect on wildlife. Some birds need open ground to feed in but undergrowth to breed in. Clearing away the undergrowth will harm wildlife, especially as the brambles provide blackberries in the autumn. It would be better if local residents forgot about their obsession with prostitutes, and also stopped telling lies.
Another thing I don't like is the way that the park wardens sometimes drive around off-road in their van. This can compact the soil and can lead to the death of some trees. There are some old oak trees there and it would be a pity if they die, especially for such a trivial reason as trying to deter punters.
I found a place that had been used by street-girls. I saw an improvised crack pipe. I had noticed the same thing in the same position last week, but this is the first time I have ever seen drugs paraphernalia on the common ever. It is not true, as has been reported on TV, that drugs equipment is found all over the common. I also noticed a used condom hanging from a twig in the same position as last week and a lot of shit.
Someone has been smoking crack and shitting in the bushes. This is a new development. I thought perhaps there must be a disturbed woman around. Last week I did meet a woman. She was a middle-aged African woman, quite plump. Quite well-dressed, didn't look like an addict. I spoke to her but didn't go with her.
Because the mess does not get cleaned up it is easy to think that there is a greater accumulation of used condoms and other items than is in fact the case. If people are so worried about children seeing drug equipment, then why don't they make sure it is cleared away? Not that most people, especially children, would know what a crack pipe is. If a crack pipe is made of rubbish then it looks like rubbish. People don't usually go into the undergrowth anyway.
Cutting away the undergrowth may seem a good plan to stop prostitutes. The effect of it may be to force women to get into men's cars more often, thus making their lives more dangerous.
There will also be an effect on wildlife. Some birds need open ground to feed in but undergrowth to breed in. Clearing away the undergrowth will harm wildlife, especially as the brambles provide blackberries in the autumn. It would be better if local residents forgot about their obsession with prostitutes, and also stopped telling lies.
Another thing I don't like is the way that the park wardens sometimes drive around off-road in their van. This can compact the soil and can lead to the death of some trees. There are some old oak trees there and it would be a pity if they die, especially for such a trivial reason as trying to deter punters.
Street-girls, escorts and cocaine
I have been criticised by some for suggesting that large numbers of prostitutes who are not street-girls take drugs. I need to clarify what it is that I have said and explain why I think it is so.
My guess is that half of all prostitutes who are not street-girls, even the higher-class escorts, take cocaine on a regular basis. It is my belief that no matter which form of prostitution a man may indulge in, the money he pays is likely to be spent in part on cocaine.
Cocaine use is so common in our society now, and is becoming more common. It is accepted in some circles, especially among people who can earn large amounts of money.
Women who take up prostitution have crossed a line that most women would not wish to cross. A woman who is willing to cross that line would be more willing to also cross the line of trying drugs. Trying a drug like cocaine is an easier step to take than trying prostitution, more women have taken it, and more middle-class women.
The sort of men who pay prostitutes are more likely to take cocaine. The sort of men who associate with prostitutes socially are more likely to take cocaine. This will influence many women who take up prostitution.
Any man who pays prostitutes and who thinks that his money will not be spent on drugs is fooling himself. Any woman who takes cocaine and looks at a street girl and thinks "That could never happen to me" is fooling herself. Street-girls in my experience do not become street-girls because they are forced into it by pimps, or been forced onto drugs, or because they have recently emerged from a childhood in care.
They have become street-girls because they have been willing to cross lines, to transgress boundaries. This is because they are fun-loving and don't think that it can happen to them. They don't think. In some cases they will have had some kind of psychological disturbance and have always had a chaotic lifestyle. In most cases that will not be true. It is in the nature of drug addiction that people loose control.
Cocaine by itself is enough of a problem. People who take it think that they can control how much they take and that they will not go on to take crack cocaine, crystal meth or heroin. In most cases people can control it, but you can never tell if it will be you who ends up on the streets.
You may think that it is hypocritical of me to say this when I give money to street girls. I'm not criticising people, I just want people to be clear about what it is that they are doing. If two or three times a year I give a tenner to a street-girl to feel her tits or something else I don't feel that I should be criticised by other punters or by escorts who feel that they are better than me.
I am aware that money paid for cocaine and crack cocaine ends up in the hands of criminals who plant land mines that kill and maim innocent people in South America. Are you? What I have been looking for for a long time is an unmarried mum on a council estate in south London who needs the money to pay rent and bills and Xmas presents for her kids. I would be one of her regular clients and I would be more confident than nearly all punters that my money was not going on drugs. I would stop seeing street-girls and I would stop going to Soho too.
My guess is that half of all prostitutes who are not street-girls, even the higher-class escorts, take cocaine on a regular basis. It is my belief that no matter which form of prostitution a man may indulge in, the money he pays is likely to be spent in part on cocaine.
Cocaine use is so common in our society now, and is becoming more common. It is accepted in some circles, especially among people who can earn large amounts of money.
Women who take up prostitution have crossed a line that most women would not wish to cross. A woman who is willing to cross that line would be more willing to also cross the line of trying drugs. Trying a drug like cocaine is an easier step to take than trying prostitution, more women have taken it, and more middle-class women.
The sort of men who pay prostitutes are more likely to take cocaine. The sort of men who associate with prostitutes socially are more likely to take cocaine. This will influence many women who take up prostitution.
Any man who pays prostitutes and who thinks that his money will not be spent on drugs is fooling himself. Any woman who takes cocaine and looks at a street girl and thinks "That could never happen to me" is fooling herself. Street-girls in my experience do not become street-girls because they are forced into it by pimps, or been forced onto drugs, or because they have recently emerged from a childhood in care.
They have become street-girls because they have been willing to cross lines, to transgress boundaries. This is because they are fun-loving and don't think that it can happen to them. They don't think. In some cases they will have had some kind of psychological disturbance and have always had a chaotic lifestyle. In most cases that will not be true. It is in the nature of drug addiction that people loose control.
Cocaine by itself is enough of a problem. People who take it think that they can control how much they take and that they will not go on to take crack cocaine, crystal meth or heroin. In most cases people can control it, but you can never tell if it will be you who ends up on the streets.
You may think that it is hypocritical of me to say this when I give money to street girls. I'm not criticising people, I just want people to be clear about what it is that they are doing. If two or three times a year I give a tenner to a street-girl to feel her tits or something else I don't feel that I should be criticised by other punters or by escorts who feel that they are better than me.
I am aware that money paid for cocaine and crack cocaine ends up in the hands of criminals who plant land mines that kill and maim innocent people in South America. Are you? What I have been looking for for a long time is an unmarried mum on a council estate in south London who needs the money to pay rent and bills and Xmas presents for her kids. I would be one of her regular clients and I would be more confident than nearly all punters that my money was not going on drugs. I would stop seeing street-girls and I would stop going to Soho too.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
pictures of street girls
I found some pictures of street girls on the internet. I thought that they are interesting. Five pictures of each of five street girls. I have included one picture of each of the women, the one that showed the face best. It is the faces I find interesting. I have cropped and resized the pictures so that it is only the face that is seen.These pictures were taken by the same man in the King's Cross area of London. This has a reputation for prostitution. I used to go to Argyl Square next to King's Cross years ago. I saw large numbers of women selling themselves on the street. I have not seen street girls anywhere in the King's Cross area in recent years.
The women in these photos look very sad. They look different from the women that I have met on Tooting Bec Common. I have always thought that the women getting into cars late at night inhabit a whole different world from the one that I am familiar with. The most addicted street girls don't come to Tooting Bec Common because they can't make enough money there.
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