Wednesday, 24 June 2009

Man for Hire

Last night, whilst eavesdropping on a conversation, I overheard two girls talking about a phone call one of them had received from some sexy bloke they’d both met. Anyway, to cut a long story short, this bloke called saying that he’d come over, do a strip for them and their friends, and follow it up with a drink whilst everyone took pictures of him. Sounds like a pretty nice bloke, don’t yer fink? All in all, about thirty minutes of this man’s time would cost a mere one hundred and twenty pounds. What a bargain between ten of them was the conclusion to their conversation.

Can you believe this girl? She thought it was amazing that he’d even called her… Der! Never heard of cold calling, I guess. Although, can’t imagine any man in his line of business doing anything in chilly conditions.

Young girls giving their numbers out to professional strippers… whatever next!

9 comments:

  1. He sounds charming. He's probably got a friend in Nigeria who would like them to help him with a problem about getting money out the country and will let them keep 10%

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  2. Yep... That's exactly what I thought.

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  3. 'Whatever next!'

    How about an amateur for a tenner, plus expenses?

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  4. Mister Valance! You wouldn't... would you?

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  5. Certainly not, I wouldn't stoop so low. Now if these ladies were to make it twenty quid, with free drinks and a promise to cut their fingernails, I might consider it. Naturally, there'd have to be a guaranteed minimum room temperature of 65 degrees, as I wouldn't want to let anyone down, least of all me. That only leaves the removal of the kitchen roll tube to negotiate.

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  6. Twenty quid... If ever I see those young gals again, I'll be sure to pass on your offer, Mister Valance.

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  7. Something that comes with a 'might' and a 'consider' don't exactly amount to an offer, Miss JJ. Hell, you know I was only bluffing.

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  8. Too late, Cowboy. I got yer a booking. Two consecutive nights in Basildon. Three shows a night at twenty quid a show. That's one hundred and twenty smackers, just fer getting yer kecks off.

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  9. Damn, then I'll have to wear a mask. Might as well conceal my face, if nothing else. Basildon, huh? Hell, that name sends a chill right down my pants. Sounds like the kind of place where a man might need plenty of body oil.

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