You Know You’re a Hooker When…
Every piece of clothing in your closet is covered in sequins! Unless you’re moonlighting as a part-time lighthouse operator on the weekends where you need to direct ships into port by using your sequin top as a beacon of light from preventing them from running up the coastline then you need to chill out on the sparklies. As far as I’m concerned, the last hooker who could get away with head-to-toe sequins was Blanche Devereaux, the H.H.I.C. (Head Hooker In Charge).
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
You preface anything you’re about to say with, “I hope this doesn’t make me sound like a slut.” Chances are you’re very aware that what you’re about to say is going to make you sound like a giant $2 road whore so you might as well just skip the introduction and get right down to the knitty gritty.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
You’re in the hospital with pneumonia and you’re STILL text messaging your friends asking where the party is at tonight! The antibiotics haven’t even made it through your system yet and you’re already worried about where your gonna find your next “sponsor.” No one’s trying to see you in the club taking shots and dropping it like it’s hot to a Flo Rida song…with an IV attached to your thirsty ass. P.R.I.O.R.I.T.I.E.S.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
Someone asks to use your phone for second, whether it’s to make a call or maybe even show you a feature, and you stand over their shoulder watching, like a malnourished hawk seeking prey, afraid they are going to stumble upon your “ho tendencies” files on your phone. Uhmmmm, calm down Thirsty McThirstyson, I’m not trying to see the various illicit pictures you have on your smartphone or the XXX-rated sexts which I’m sure you have running rampant on the device, I was just trying to show you how to download Angry Birds!
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
your “friends” list on Facebook has entered into the THOUSANDS! Oh okay, so you KNOW those 4,312 people that you’re “friends” with? Let’s please keep it real people…you didn’t go to college, and based on your lack of personality on your page and your horrendous grammar, I’m pretty sure you got out of high school by the skin of your teeth so how exactly do you know so many people? Unless your name is Rihanna or Lady Gaga there’s really no reason to have that many people associated with your Facebook page. We know that you probably only know about 16 of those people, but we’re hip to your game. You’ve somehow managed to turn a “social networking” site into a “social sex’em down site”. #cyberslutsbeware
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
after a LONG summer day at the beach (where you’ve apparently been drinking heavily) you proceed to engage in conversation with strangers about the x-rated things you want to do with them. Hmmmmm. Where should I REALLY begin with you? Should we begin with the bathing suit that is clearly about 3 sizes too small that you’ve somehow managed to squeeze yourself into (most likely with the help of some Crisco)? Are you actively trying to discover a new strand of Herpes to add to the collection that I’m sure you’re already housing? Or should we just discuss how that cheap weave makes you resemble Tito from “Oliver & Company”? Either way, can you go soliciting your services away from my beach blanket. Thanks.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
every time I run into you in the streets you’re on a “date” with someone new. While there’s nothing wrong with testing the waters and seeing what’s out there for you, but it starts to become a problem when I’ve seen you multiple times in the span of a couple weeks and each time you’re on a “date” with a different skeezer. You can be honest about the situation cause there’s really only two possible answers to this equation; either you’re moonlighting as a prostitute and this is you “entertaining” your client before you seal the deal…or you’re just REALLY uninteresting on dates and you’re subsequently getting dropped by the other person at the first chance they see to escape! Either way, it’s not looking to favorable for you. Do better and stop getting your dates off of http://www.NonClassyTricks.com.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you get home from a long-weekend vacation and you start getting random text messages from numbers you don’t know and upon asking them who they are they say, “Oh you don’t remember me? We made out for like 30 minutes at the club on Saturday night!” Now maybe I’m a prude about certain things, but when someone’s TONGUE is in my mouth for anything other than providing me with CPR to resuscitate me I tend to remember the individual! Especially if I was coherent enough to give them my phone number afterward! If you’re getting THAT drunk at the club than it might be time to switch up your drink of choice because you’re heading down a dark road with that one.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you see a relatively happy couple at a restaurant and you take it upon yourself to start caressing and holding hands with one of them under the bar. And what’s worse, the one that’s supposed to be in the “happy couple” starts touching back on the hooker because his “significant other” can’t see his hands. Are you kidding me? You’re seriously going to do that right in front of your boo, huh? Now normally I would say the hooker deserves a good beat-down for just being a blatant hooker from the town of Hookerville, but in this equation I feel like the whorish half of the “happy couple” needs to be permanently voted off the island. Punishment for this violation needs to be severe and harsh, like forcing him to listen to an acoustic performance by Jennifer Lopez.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you SOMEHOW manage to have not ONE, not TWO, but THREE different sexual partners in one day. LITERALLY one day. One single 24-hour cycle. And the worst part about it…you freely admit that you didn’t shower in between each one!!! Yes people, this is literally a story that I was privy to hearing during my years on this earth. I really can’t say which disturbs me more about this scenario. Is it the fact that this young lady’s coochie got about as much traction in one day as the turn-style in the 42nd street subway terminal? Or maybe it’s the fact that even old-school hookers in the days of the wild wild west used to at least give themselves a quick rub-down with a moist towelette before they jumped onto the next magic stick in line? Either way, I felt the need to take a shower after the story was concluded.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you’re ferociously making-out with your boo like two 13-year olds (even though your both clearly in your late 30’s)…at 7:00 at night…in front of a T.G.I.FRIDAYS!!!! Okay, first of all, hardcore PDA is already gross enough, but you’re doing it on the corner of 43rd and Vanderbilt in New York City so that just raised the “tacky meter.” And T.G.I.Fridays? What happened, was the Burger King on 34th street too crowded to publicly devour each others face? Do me a favor, please. Carefully remove yourselves from each others tonsils and find a few minutes to get an order of Loaded Potato Skins, because let’s be real, that’s the only VALID excuse to be at a T.G.I.Friday’s in 2011 anyway. Otherwise, take that shit home and get salacious in the privacy of your own domain.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you’re on a date with someone, but when they get up to use the bathroom you start sexting someone else. Really? As if it wasn’t shady enough you really can’t wait until your date is over to start asking your side-piece some dirty crap or saying the salacious things you want to do with them? Here’s my recommendation for you, skeezer; since you’re at a restaurant already, you should go ahead and call the waiter/waitress over and ask for a large pitcher of iced-water cause your ass is THIRSTY!
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you’re waiting at the airport terminal about to jet off to a major holiday weekend party location and you realize that you’ve already slept with MULTIPLE people boarding the same plane as you. Oh okay, well at least this alleviates that initial awkward silence in the case that you get seated next to one of them on the plane since they’ve already been knee-deep in your goodies! It may become time to start evaluating your life choices when you realize you’ve shacked up with half of the coach section of a Boeing 747! And in all fairness I’m just assuming your “conquests” are sitting in coach because let’s just keep it real…patrons sitting in first class ain’t checking for dat dusty ass!
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
your a barista at Starbucks and you proceed to have a LOUD conversation with your friend, who is about 10 feet away from you, about how you’re no longer “f@cking” with the girl you used to date because you’ve apparently “smashed too many of her friends.” Oh yeah, well that relationship was DEFINITELY meant to be…written in the stars like Romeo and Juliet actually! I can see the wedding reception already; your blushing bride standing at the altar with her bridesmaids (which you’ve apparently already ran through all of them at some point during your courtship.) Can you just get my iced coffee and close your lips? Thanks.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you hear Khia’s My Neck, My Back and the first thing you say and/or think is, “This was my jam!” Really? This was your jam? Well if that’s the case I have two things to say to you; 1) please make sure you wash your mouth out with Clorox next time you brush your teeth because Lord only knows what you’ve been doing with it and 2) I’m curious to know what bedtime stories your parents told you as a child? “Sleeping Hussy and the Seven Nymphomaniac Dwarves?”
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you’re giving the “sexy eyes” and attempting to flirt with someone in a club/bar/restaurant who is CLEARLY with their significant other. Now normally I don’t condone physical violence, but when you knowingly put yourself out there like a dirty trollop/gigolo then you rightfully deserve to be smacked over the head with a bottle of Arbor Mist (because lord knows I’m not wasting a good bottle of wine on attacking your cheap ass.) Do better hookers, there’s plenty of other fish swimming in the sea.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you’re attempting to hit on a woman at a store and in-between throwing some dreadful game her way you begin to spout off the names AND ages of all your children. All EIGHT of your children! Excuse me? Come again? You’re approximately in your late 30’s and you’ve fathered EIGHT children already? And now you’re attempting to recruit another young lady into your bordello of baby mama’s? I’m pretty sure the young lady isn’t thinking, “Oh this one’s a KEEPER!” She’s likely thinking, “I hope this gigolo doesn’t breath too hard on me because I’m bound to pregnant just being in a 2-foot radius of his ass!” Wrap that thing up muchacho!
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
your occupation in life is that of a police officer in Times Square and instead of doing your duties to protect and serve the community of New York City you’re spending your shift taking pictures of yourself on your camera phone to presumably sext-message to another hooker you’re interacting with. Do cops in New York City really have nothing better to do on their shift than take pictures of themselves? Listen here hombre, America just killed Osama Bin Laden so I’d rather you be racial profiling against terrorism than taking pseudo-sexy pictures of yourself in uniform. Please and thanks.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
your ass is up in Starbucks using COMMUNITY Wi-Fi and attempting to give your significant other a peek of your goods via Skype! Uhmmm sweetie, you think I can’t see you giggling and putting your tig-ole bittays closer and closer to the computer screen? I’m all for keeping the fire alive in your long-distance relationship but is it necessary whilst I’m sipping a Frappachino 3 feet away from you? Put those puppies back in their cage, the petting zoo is closed!
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
instead of signing up for Match.com or eHarmony.com your ass decides to start scouring the selection of prison inmates via ColdCrib.com. Yes, instead of pursuing a man that may possibly have his own house and/or career, you’ve decided to boo up with prisoner #86734 because his online profile “touches your soul.” You know what else is going to “touch your soul?” The machete he attacks you with once he gets released from prison!!!!!
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you run to either Body Shop or Rave when you need a “classy” outfit for the weekend. If you leave the store looking like you once dated Bret Michaels or Flavor Flav then it’s time to step up your game, and by that I mean you need to burn down your closet immediately.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you’re over the age of 7 and still wearing those damn jelly shoes that USED to be clear, but you’ve managed to wander the streets in them for so long that they’re now a suspicious shade of tan/brown. Which coincidentally is the same shade as the bottoms of your feet. Do better!
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
you look at your T-Mobile bill and realize all your phone calls happen after 10:00 p.m. And trust me, people aren’t calling you to utilize their “free minutes.” No muchacho, they’re calling you because your “services” are only needed when the sun goes down and they don’t want to be seen with you during the light of day.
You Know You’re a Hooker When…
over half the pictures on your Facebook page depict you in the mirror of your bathroom, most likely half-naked, taking shots of yourself with your camera phone. I’m all for sending your significant other a sessy picture every now-and-then…but is it really necessary for your 6,000 Facebook friends to see your goodies?
My Yankee Fitted 