PotentialProstitutes.com is a hideous new website that posts the photos, locations and phone numbers of women who it deems might be sex workers. Many of the pics appear to be mug shots, which would suggest at least some of the women featured on the site have been arrested in the past for sex work. But if you’re an extra special douchebag, you can submit random people for inclusion on Potential Prostitutes. Keep reading »
Prostitutes — out of sight, out of mind. At least that’s what the government of Zurich, Switzerland, is hoping for. That’s why they’ve created drive-in sex boxes, which will accommodate around 30 working prostitutes. The boxes are a move to begin regulating the sex trade in the city, where officials say prostitution has gotten out of hand. In order to qualify to use one of the boxes, the prostitutes will have to be covered by medical insurance, pay a £26 license, and a daily fee of around £3.30. The boxes will be located in an industrial area, and will be occupied on a first-come, first-served basis (no pun intended.) Keep reading »
When you think of Kennebunkport, Maine, images of lobsters, sailing, and even the Bush family retreat come to mind. What you don’t think of is seedy sex scandal – that is, until now. The swank, coastal town is where a prostitution ring was being run out of a local Zumba studio.
A local fitness instructor, Alexis Wright, has been charged with running the illicit business out of her gym and secretly taping the “dates.” Now the entire town is waiting to see whose names pop up on the list of johns as the investigation unfolds. Read more…
Not that I was under any illusions that pimps were good people as a general demographic, but this just makes me want to take a bath after reading it. On Monday, Long Island police raided the home of an alleged pimp named Steve McDaniel and came across a handwritten list called “Rules 2 Da Game of Hoez!!!” Keep reading »
On occasion, I get mildly – just mildly – depressed. That sort of depressed where you can’t quite pin it on one particular thing, where it’s more a general, ambiguous malaise. On the occasions when I find myself feeling this way, and as a single woman in her 30′s who lives alone and works from home, I try to get out of the house. On one such occasion, I decided to treat myself to brunch. I did so at a restaurant down the block from my apartment, a spot I dined at, on average, two times a week. Whenever I go in there, I arrive with book in hand, sit at the bar, order a glass of wine, followed by a bowl of soup, followed by a cup of hot water. The routine, as a whole, prompted frequent urination, which both A) provided helpful intermissions to my reading, and B) helped me, as a Solo Diner, to look occupied.
The restaurant’s most winning feature is – and has always been – a loin-achingly handsome waiter I shall henceforth call Brian.* If you imagine both John Lennon and Justin Timberlake at their most handsome of stages, shaken, stirred, poured into a tall glass of water, you’d wind up with Brian. I knew, as all patrons knew, that Brian was to be not obtained, merely ogled; that one did well to appreciate him as exquisite décor rather than realistic option. Keep reading »