Well, I haven´t but...
A friend of mine came to London for a weekend, the highlight of which was to be a Transformers convention on the Saturday. He´d told me he was really keen to come along, and it would be his first time. So obviously on the Friday we went out and got absolutely motherfucked on pills and techno and as we were staggering back in the wee hours, he confessed that he had got right into ladies of the night lately, and he really wanted to visit one. I said that there were several "saunas" and "massage parlours" on the way home, but alas at this early hour they were all closed and despite calling one that had their number prominently displayed (the one by Camden Road train station) and asking if they would deliver, there was nothing to be found.

So we went back to mine and had a couple more drinks and a spliff, me hoping that this would calm his raging horn. No such luck. Eventually, he disappeared to find a callbox with a number in it, and I went to the TFs convention. I have never had such a ropey day in all my life, I was slurred, mumbling and spent most of my time in the bar, trying to regain some composure and keep the alcohol levels topped to try and avoid the inevitable comedown.

He spent about 2 hours with said lady of the night, because of the huge amounts of ecstasy swilling about in his system he had little to no chance of actually achieving orgasm and was still left with a raging horn at the end of it.

...

I´m not sure there´s actually a lesson here, except that Transformers are better than prostitutes. Probably.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Sun 22 Jan 2006, 19:47, Reply)