Dundee and Doggy Tales

So that was Dundee and what a hoot was had by all, including one unsuspecting gentleman. My room was the very last in the corridor, by the fire escape.

Client number three announced his arrival by phone ( by then I was fairly tired ) so I dusted myself down, applied lip gloss and headed to the door. There was a peephole on the door which looked into the corridor and how I could tell said client was approaching was when the heavy fire door half-way down the corridor banged shut.

Through the peephole I spied him, a suited and booted guy approaching so I opened the door in a black satin robe, stockings, "fecking hell" hair, massive heels and a grin that would put any Cheshire cat to shame.

Fabulous, except he wasn't my client but the guy staying in the room opposite.

Whoops.

To make matters worse, after said innocent hotel guest had almost impaled himself on his briefcase handle with the fright, REAL client showed up and hammered on my door, bellowing ...

"LAURA !!"

I could have lynched him, but as it turns out we have a lot in common, mainly a deep love of animals. I've long thought that if I could surround myself with animals for the rest of my life I would be the happiest woman on earth, it's people I find difficult ( with some notable exceptions, of course ). The reasoning behind it is this, animals don't bitch - they don't know how to. It's one of two reactions -

1. You fed me and rubbed my belly, ergo I love you and I'm going to lick you, whether you like it or not.

2. You annoyed me / stood on my paw, ergo I'm going to bite you, HARD. It's OK though, because we'll be friends again within the hour.

See ? Simplicity at it's most splendid.

So, Mr. Client was telling me ( in the after-glow ) that for many years he has been a long haul driver, ( he was just passing through ) all achieved with a very small and very cute companion in the shape of a terrier. He LOVED that dog, they travelled all over Europe together and were inseparable. One weekend he noticed the dog was not himself and was off his food, so he decided to keep an eye on him and postpone his boy's night out. By the second night, the poor creature couldn't make it up the stairs, so this man, all 6 foot 2 of him, brought the dog's bed downstairs to the fireplace in the living room and curled up beside him to sleep. At some point during the night the dog gave a couple of loud yelps and was clearly in pain so my guy held him close and said "Close your eyes son, it's time to go".

Sure enough, by morning time the dog had passed away. By the time he had finished his tale, both myself and my guy were sitting on the side of my bed, sobbing uncontrollably, made worse by the fact that he had pictures of him on his phone to accompany the narrative. All in all, it was a very surreal experience and I really hope he bites the bullet and gets another puppy.

Back to normality then ( whatever that is ) and I'm preparing for my tour to Perth next week before I go on sabbatical for a bit. I really don't know how long I'll be away as yet but I plan to get back to the wonderful world of floozying as soon as I can. Meanwhile I face the enormous task of trying to get my books in order for my accountant, this year I have decided to be ruthless and claim for every can of diet coke and snickers consumed whilst on tour which means I have a mountain of receipts to be sorted through. To compound my anxieties, The Mother has announced her intention to conduct the bi-annual inspection during my time off too, so I will be on a cleaning frenzy to boot. Marvellous.

Catch up with you fae Perth.

LL xx

Ebay and an elegiac lament

Before I head off into the wilds of The Highlands for a couple of days frivolity I thought I'd share this with you simply because I think it's hilarious. It's a guy selling a watch on Ebay and his sense of humour is brilliant, check out this description ;

If you want to look like an offensively rich footballer at fraction of the cost take a look at this bad boy. This rather delicious watch for the sportier men among you was given to me by my idiot of an ex girlfriend, who by the way ended up in bed last Thursday with Steve. Steve, for your information, is not me.

The watch has a trustworthy and comforting rubber strap, in white, which is more than you can say for my girlfriend who can't be trusted for five seconds and is about as comforting as having a lung removed. The face is clear and consistent white with simple minimalist design however my girlfriends face is covered in freckles, fake tan and has an unsightly mole just under her right eye.

This item is presented in a red gift box and is powered by a Storm battery but I no longer have the box or the instructions, still could be worse, my girlfriend unfortunately no longer has anywhere to live.

Unfortunately I have only worn this watch twice since she purchased it for me - Oh how extravagant of her -"Oh what gift can I buy my boyfriend, I know. I'll go to Covent Garden to the Storm shop and buy him a watch but come home with 12 pairs of shoes for myself and a 3 Grand Breitling for Steve" By the way she also has big feet. Size 9. On a woman, yes that's what I said she should be in the circus. "Roll up Roll up for the incredible big footed lady with a hairy eye wart"

I was going to ask Steve if after eating my girlfriend's body in front of me, he might want to purchase the watch. I also then offered him my girlfriends thrush pessaries from the bathroom cabinet. He declined both politely and drove off in his Grey 2002 plate Ford Focus - LX. Grey like his personality, complexion and most of his hair.

So as Mr Grey and Sasquatch Mole Eye wander off happily holding hands, I will be withholding all the items remotely connected to our relationship in escrow and sending them romantically on their way to eBay.

PS - As Steve is actually my boss and I punched him hard in the face and subsequently do not have a job, the revenue from the sale of these items will go toward feeding myself and my poor cat Judy, who sadly lost her tail and one of her legs in a lathe accident.

The link is here, read the questions and answers too, it's a hoot.

Finally, rest in peace Amy Winehouse, what a waste of a young talented lady.
To those people on Twitter and Facebook calling her a "stupid junkie bitch" and a "mongo" ( to use some of the better terms ), I hope you never have to fight an addiction the way she did, when she wasn't afforded the privacy to do it and there were those who willed her to fail. SHAME ON YOU.

LL xx

...and it's a goodbye from them.

I don't think many of us who work in the sex industry will mourn the loss of the News of the World. This is a publication which routinely ruined the lives of many ladies all in the name of selling papers to those who can't be said to list high browed intellectualism as one of their attributes. Aside from myself, I know of several ladies who have in the past been "doorstepped" and it is a horrifying experience. Your first thoughts are always for your children and how protecting them must be paramount in your decision making process. I have always thought that the reporters who outed ladies had the morals of a seal pup skin collector, caring not a jot for the feelings of the lady, her family, her friends and most importantly her children. I was right.

Whilst it is true that from time to time I speak to the press, there is an immeasurable difference between talking to a journalist about proposed changes to the legislation concerning sex workers and having your personal details splashed all over page 8, together with photographs. Following on from the last piece I did, a magazine called and tendered £400 ( WOW !! ) for a story about what it's like to be a "real" escort. I told them I would be delighted to speak to them provided that they maintained my anonymity, allowed me to mention Trish Godman and what she was trying to rush through Holyrood and if I could donate my fee to a women's charity. I never heard from them again.

When reading the NOTW's self-righteous pieces on "fallen" women, the one thing which struck me was that they would always choose the lady's lowest rate, so as to cheapen her to the penultimate level. She could charge £5,000 for a week, for example, but the headline would scream "£150 AN HOUR SLEAZY VICE GIRL". Vile journalism at it's best.

Let there be no misunderstandings about this, were they to "out" me, I would sue without hesitation, calling in every lawyer I know and touring until my legs fell off to pay for it if necessary. As far as I'm concerned, if I take measures to protect my identity on my website and don't parade my face all over the internet, then I have expressed a desire for privacy and it is a privacy I am entitled to.

Of late there had been an upsurge in the comments left by ordinary members of the public when such "stories" were published, such as "leave her alone, what she's doing is quite legal and your expose is not in the public interest" and I must admit I had begun to take heart. Finally, ( I thought ) common decency had begun to prevail. I was still in no way prepared for the huge outcry following the latest allegations against News International, it was people power at it's finest. If what is alleged is true, it is quite simply one of the most disgusting things I have ever heard. To hack into the phones of people who have already suffered as the family members of murder victims, those who fought and died for our country, not to mention high level corruption with alleged payments to police is beyond any reasonable description I could conjure up. It is the one scandal which has united the country in outrage and a demand for answers.

Perhaps now, these people will know what it feels like to experience social exclusion and stigma. In their predicament however, it is entirely warranted and richly deserved.

LL xx

A letter to Graham Norton

Graham Norton has long held a fascination for me, not least because he's Irish. From the first moment he danced onto our screens as a hyper-active Irish dancing priest on "Father Ted", I was hooked.

Incidentally, I once spied Dermot Morgan who played Ted in Searson's Pub on Baggot Street in Dublin, enjoying a quiet pint and reading the paper, or at least he was until I ingratiated myself into his body space. " I know you must get this all the time, but I absolutely LOVED Father Ted, a call girl in the bath with the bishop, sheer genius." "Thanks". So that was that really, I slunk back to my seat to my friends who had completely given up and were pretending they'd never seen me before in their lives.

Back to Mr. Norton, every Saturday morning he has a radio show which I listen to ( if I'm not slinking out of a hotel or ferrying several pink princesses around fulfilling their busy diaries ) and one of the regular features is listener problems, where people write in for advice from Mr. Norton and the great British public too. It makes for real entertainment, not so much the "problems", but the suggested solutions are always a hoot. I have finally thought of a letter which I think he might read out. Here goes -

Dear Graham,

Firstly let me say I am a huge fan of the show, not in a "I'm your number one fan" creepy/stalkerish way obviously, but you get what I mean.

I have an idea I'd like to run past you, it's not a problem per se, more a suggestion, let me know what you think.

We all know the devastating effect that the credit crunch has had on our economy in recent times and I'm sure The BBC haven't exactly been immune to the effects of it either, otherwise why on earth would BBC4 screen - "Teenage Kicks: The Search for Sophistication" ? Anyway, I have a cunning plan to save some money.

( You'll forgive the language in the next part of my letter, but sometimes only one word will do. )

The weather in Scotland is shite, we all know it's shite and it doesn't take Mystic Meg to "forecast" that it's going to be shite in the future. In real terms, the forecast could be covered admirably in two sentences ; "Everywhere in the UK will be lovely today with the exception of Scotland where it will hammer down with rain and sleet and it might snow too. In July." So, why bother including Scotland in the weather forecast at all ? Simply skip it, everyone up here is too depressed to notice or even care anyway and you can free up valuable air time to sell more advertising, thus generating more income for The Beeb. Brilliant !!

I realise this is a fairly radical suggestion but look forward to your reply.

Yours in abject admiration,

Laura.

I'll let you know if I get a reply.

Just to mention, my new pictures are now on my site too as of yesterday - right here.
I'm off to Inverness in the morning where men are men and sheep are in counselling, allegedly. Catch up with you from there.

LL xx

Thieving and Tom Hanks

I have a bit of a confession to make, I am nothing but a common thief.

In case you think I've finally lost it, I'm not talking about money or valuables, no. I have a penchant for stealing crisp white towels. I CAN'T HELP IT. I've tried to work through the reasoning for this in my head, with little or no success thusfar. Was I denied towels as a child ? No. Can I afford to buy my own bloody towels ? Of course. Be that as it may, I still have enough towels ( acquired from various four star hostelries) to start a small but flourishing bed and breakfast business. Oh, the shame.

It gets worse though, recently I have extended my repertoire to include pencils. Not just any old pencils though, only the ones with a rubber on top. ( They're awfully useful for pencilling in appointments which may change, hence the rubber requirement. ) In my defence, the towels thing started because I always like to make sure my guys have a clean towel for their shower, so I bring extra towels with me when I head off on tour. Previous statement accepted, there is still no need for 329 towels, even if I had a showering fetish I'd never get through them all. In reality I think I'd make a rubbish thief because good old Catholic guilt eats away at me sometimes and I imagine the receptionist saying as I leave ...

"There she goes, the towel thief. Some people have no standards." ( I couldn't care less if they muse about whether or not I'm an escort, but a towel thief ? Mortified. )

Anyway, I'm in Carlisle in absolutely beautiful sunshine, touring is worth it for the weather alone. ( That reminds me, I've finally thought of a good reason to write to Graham Norton, blog post to follow. ) I was watching The Graham Norton show recently and he was interviewing Tom Hanks. Now, I've always loved Tom Hanks, he is a fabulous actor, very versatile and convincing and if I'm being honest I howled at the end of "Forest Gump". Recently though, he has gone up in my estimations no end. He has this new movie out you see, which he wrote and directed himself, co-starring Julia Roberts.

So, here is a man who quite fancied several snogs with Julia Roberts and who wouldn't ? ( Does that woman EVER age ? Grrr. ) So what does he do ? He writes a film script in which she plays his love interest, not only that, but he directs the film so he can dictate how many takes he needs of each scene. Clever, huh ? Not only does he get away with snogging Julia Roberts to the point of erotic asphyxiation ( in spite of the fact he's married ) but he'll probably get a feckin' award for it too !! I can see his wife now, beaming from ear to ear with pride as she watches him bask in the glory of his achievement.

So what's next for our Tom ?

"Hey Demi, I've had the most amazing idea for a film, you and I play naked castaways on a desert island after a mass flood has killed most people and the only hope for the continuity of the species is if we do it, like, constantly."

Whatever about an award for his film, Tom Hanks should surely get an award for ingenuity.

LL xx

A request for help and Amy Winehouse

Evening all and greetings from Newcastle where I am chilling out with a double-mocca-chocca-crap coffee type thingy and some cookies, way to go.

I need to ask for your help again I'm afraid, and there's only 24 hours in which to do it.

The government are asking for some input into how much they should invest into the policing of prostitution.

Policing Priorities survey - introduction at

http://forums.parliament.uk/policing-priorities-poll/index.php?index,1

Given the financial constraints that police forces face, the Committee would like to hear which areas of work you think the police should prioritise and which areas of work you think should be a lower priority.

How much of a priority should tackling prostitution be for the police?

http://forums.parliament.uk/policing-priorities-poll/index.php?read,1,137

The deadline is tomorrow, ( I know, I'm sorry ) so please go and have your say.
I see the anti's have found it already, take this little belter -

"It depends what you mean by consensual. The figures show that most sex workers have a background of some form of abuse; a disproportionate number have been in care, have a substance abuse habit, and are severely traumatised by the work they do. The work itself exposes them to people who are willing to threaten, beat, and rape them. Many are trafficked into the trade, suggesting that coercion is necessary - hardly a sign that people are willing to stay for the perks.
If you mean that, even accepting that most are damaged by their background, nonetheless they have freely decided to make their living this way, research shows that if asked, the vast majority would like to leave it - and tellingly, I've never met anyone who wanted their daughter or mother or adolescent son to become a sex worker, even among those who like you say it's an entirely consensual activity."

Yes, the usual drivel trotted out with no offer of proof or statistics to back it up.

*sigh*

As a complete aside, you have to feel sorry for Amy Winehouse. The woman is going through enough with trying to deal with her own demons without her management team wheeling her out on stage to deliver a performance when she was seriously bladdered. Jesus wept, what were they thinking ? It's not nice to make an exhibition of someone who is clearly suffering and in need of help. Given that she was heckled off the stage anyway and refused payment for the appearance, not to mention the fact that the whole audience were refunded, quite what was the point in allowing her to perform in that condition in the first place ? It's car crash viewing, and shame on the people who allowed that to happen.

Rant over. :)

LL xx

Tours, Tortoises and Turkey

I'm off on my travels again, the rest of this month will see me in Dundee, Newcastle and finally Carlisle. Dundee is a place I haven't been for quite a while, I'm looking forward to it and will run off my fried breakfast down by the waterfront.

Terrible news girl cat fans, there is still no sign of the elusive feline in spite of endless searches and a prolonged poster and neighbour campaign, so I am back to being a one cat woman. :( I just hope she is well and being looked after and it's never a question of giving up hope, after all you read these stories in the news of cats returning home after months, even years away.

My loss has been misconstrued as my little darling's gain, she is adamant we can now have a tortoise. Naw, hen. Negotiations are continuing with the mention of a grass snake. It's not the snake I mind so much as the frozen mice in my freezer - nae chance. I have mooted the possibility of a goldfish, after all Adorable Amy gets no end of pleasure from her fish, but that suggestion was met with an incredulous look and a stony silence, so I guess that's a 'no' then.

Back to travels and as a reward for my jetting around the country and surviving on a diet of lucozade and pro-plus I have booked the family holiday to Turkey in October. This year I have decided to go all inclusive, the ideology behind said decision being that I won't be asked for money every ten seconds for ice cream or a drink and can get on with the important task of carefully burning my Celtic skin in the sun so that all my freckles join up again, only to fade within a couple of days of my return. The "lobster" look - much under-rated and in fact borderline essential for a Glasgow night out. ( Simply top it up with some bronzing pearls and hey presto, suddenly you're as orange as the rest of the lady folk and fit right in. )

Finally, on my search around the net for tortoise information, I came across this video which I thought you'd enjoy - notice how the female doesn't stop eating during her lover's rather impressive thrusts; HOW RUDE.

Click here and enjoy.



LL xx