hey folks,
i've been lurking for years (there was a time i used to review) and the one thing that i have always noticed is comments from guys new to the hobby. the mistakes they make, and the consequences there after.
i remember awhile back i posted a couple of points on my habits when out on my "adventures" and they received "positive feedback" if that's what you could call it. shortly after i started to dig a bit further into what i was up to and recording my thoughts whenever they blew my hair back a little. over time it's kind of grown into what i'll be posting in this thread. i've tried to steer clear of the social commentary aspect of our hobby, and i am definitely not out to stand on my soap-box.
first and foremost my goal is making certain the fledgling hobbyist is informed as he can possibly be when out on his earliest adventures. being informed keeps him safe, his dates safe, and most of all his loved ones safe. i think of it as a book for dummies, and a reference for the rest of us.
i'm not out to offend anybody, and hopefully the content illustrates that. for me; it is, what it is. the only concerns ill concern myself with are those of the mods. if i've posted anything offensive, or contrary to the rules of their fine establishment, i apologize in advance. i also humbly request a PM explaining any editing they see fit, simply so i may re-work anything i post farther down the line.
please, let me apologize in advance if this comes off as pretentious. for all i know what im posting could be a pile of shit, but it resonated with me and i hope it does with you as well.
The first time I paid for sex, I was 18 years old. It was shortly before I met the first great love of my life. I can’t say why I felt the need to do it, but opportunity presented itself and I grasped it. It was back in the glory days of the hooker strolls. When Richards and Helmken were a haven for the high class and the gullible, Quebec Street from Science World to just before Broadway were more “affordable” for lack of a better term. It was before the Downtown Eastside became the hot button that it is today.
I can’t with any degree of honesty remember her name, or what she looked like. Other than blonde hair and knee high boots, there’s very little else to recall. She took me to an isolated spot off of Terminal Avenue, money was exchanged, and the rest as they say, is history.
Since then, there has never really been any fear or apprehension I experienced when out on my little adventures. None of what you’re reading is anything I’ve picked up from experience. For me it was just always common-sense. I suppose you could say I’ve always been street smart.
What you’re going to find here isn’t an orientation to what’s commonly referred to as “pooning.” It’s a guide to turning you into a better liar. It’s a guide to establishing a second life as it were. It’s a guide to keep not only you, but you’re loved ones safe. There’s a slippery slope that you’re on right now, always remember that. If you’re careful, if you’re smart, you can keep it fun, and draw some positive, and possibly life changing experiences from this “hobby.”
Take all of what you’re about to read with a grain of salt. But should you be married, or a politician perhaps taking some of these thoughts to heart is a good idea.
The pre-paid cellular is the primary component of our hobby. It is the quintessential tool in keeping your two worlds from colliding. I won’t get into the companies out there, what they offer, what their air-time rates are. The only thing you need to keep in mind is you’re going to get ripped off. The devices are shitty, expect little to no customer service/support without paying some sort of charge. In short, you’re going to pay. On the other hand, look at it as an investment. The return is anonymity. Paying for your new phone in cash virtually guarantees the paper trail ends as soon as you leave the store.
Anonymity is the key. If you find yourself in a situation where the police are investigating a crime of some sort you can bet dollars to donuts that cellular records are going to be tracked. Get used to this term; paper trail. The buck stops at that phone you picked up at 7-11.
We would all love to live in a world where violent crime, especially against women, didn’t exist. But the cruel fact of the matter is, it does, and just because you don’t partake in it, doesn’t mean you can’t be accused of it. Your pre-paid cellular phone is that extra layer of blanket you need when the power goes out and it’s the dead of winter. If you’re visiting with a girl who happens to have a very busy schedule, and a gentleman further down the line gets a bit too rough…you extract yourself from a sticky situation by immediately destroying the phone.
A more likely scenario is in your travels there may come a day where you fall out of favor with a lady you spend time with. Your pre-paid cellular phone will guarantee that the only person she is going to get in touch with is you. Should you lose that phone, or it falls into the wrong hands you can also rest easy knowing that it doesn’t have anything vital to it other than numbers of the ladies you plan on spending time with. Report it lost/stolen and move on to a new phone.
The flip side of that coin is your real life. Keep your new phone in a safe place where a wife or girlfriend or whoever isn’t going to find it. The last thing you need is someone dialing one of the numbers stored on that phone and having a conversation with a girl who was using your face as toilet paper the day before.
Truth of the matter is you found that phone in a mens room and you’re turning it in to a store tomorrow morning. Right?
The concept of the dummy wallet isn’t really a new one. A careful traveler keeps one on his person should he find himself being robbed. The dummy wallet contains a few sheckles for the mutant ripping you off. Should you be of the meticulous nature you can personalize your dummy wallet to give it a more authentic appearance. What I’m trying to say, smarty pants, is don’t hand over a wallet with a price tag still attached to it. Be creative as you like, just as long as that creativity leads someone away from your real life, rather than towards it.
Should you find yourself in such a situation, don’t offer any sort of resistance. You’re not Jason Bourne. Chances are you’ve run afoul of a couple of junkies needing a fix. Don’t look down on them. Empathize with them. Your date and her pimp/boyfriend have fallen prey to their compulsion the same way you fall prey to yours. As of this writing, $40.00 bucks is a decent score. Ask yourself what kind of poison 40 bucks gets you these days; a decent bottle of rye, a flat of cheap beer, a bit of dope? Coupled with the donation you’ve already offered you’ve made their night. Don’t be an asshole, show a little respect and they’ll let you be on your way. Bottom line, don’t think of it as being robbed. Think of it as the cost of doing business. Give yourself some time to get pissed off about it, then move on to your next encounter. Only next time be a little more through in your research.
I have to be honest, I’ve come to loathe this term. For me it sits amongst buzz phrases like “thinking outside the box” and “hitting the ground running.” That being said, it’s another essential item in your toolbox. Like the dummy wallet, it all comes down to personal preference. Whatever you decide to include in your pooner bag the most vital should be anonymity. Should your bag fall into the wrong hands, the bag and anything in it, should not lead back to you in any way.
Your essentials are: A tooth-brush & paste, mouth wash, a deodorant, condoms, and a small tube of lubricant. The toiletries are a no-brainer. The condoms are for that situation where you find yourself with a less than enthusiastic date who exclaims “oops, I don’t have any condoms, would you mind running down to the store and grabbing a box?|” conveniently after collecting your donation.
Personally, I keep a change of clothes as well. Sometimes I come out of an appointment feeling dirtier than when I went in. but for all the wrong reasons
.
As I said before, the Pooner bag is subjective; no two will ever be the same. I’m a fan of inconspicuous, but should your tastes venture beyond the vanilla in sexual intercourse you may want to consider a drop-spot.
What is a drop spot? The drop spot is the place you keep that 12 inch veiny black dildo cock and Zorro outfit. This is the spot where the important items from your real life await your return. Your personal cellular phone, your real wallet, your house keys, your wedding ring, in short anything that would be incriminating in your “other world. Think about it. Would Batman keep the keys to Wayne Manor in the Bat-Suit, or the Bat-Mobile? Fuck no.
Should you have no one in your real life to answer to, it won’t matter if you keep anything in the trunk of your car. But should you worry of the day where you have to explain anything to someone; a drop-spot is something you may want to consider to take that cloak of anonymity a bit further.
Your drop spot can be a locker at your local gym. Perhaps a bus station, perhaps your office, just don’t keep it at home in the cupboard next to the fridge. Lying to someone is much more than coming up with excuses, or refuting questions. The bedrock for a lie is deception, and the actions related to it. Keep your actions in check and the deception you’ve engaged in won’t put you in a place where you need to lie to a loved one
My first memory of an erection came when I was in kindergarten. It was the first erection I ever had that I associated with the opposite sex. Before you make the joke, I would consider it safe to say that all little boys got them, but they don’t know why. I remember we would sit in a semi-circle and our teacher would sit in the center and once and awhile sing songs on her guitar. The long strip of masking tape that defined this semi circle had our names written in accordance of where we were to sit. Opposite me in that semi-circle was a girl named Nicole, she was wearing a dress and for some reason she hiked up that dress one day and started to take off her undies. It was kind of hard not to see, and the entire class got a glimpse of the-you-know-what. Needless to say our teacher was quick to cover her up. A day or so later a class-mate told me Nicole needed to take “happy pills.” Looking back; the interesting part of the story isn’t my first boner, the interesting part is a kid learning the phrase “happy pills.” Whether or not the kid understood the context of the phrase, I’ll never know.
i've been lurking for years (there was a time i used to review) and the one thing that i have always noticed is comments from guys new to the hobby. the mistakes they make, and the consequences there after.
i remember awhile back i posted a couple of points on my habits when out on my "adventures" and they received "positive feedback" if that's what you could call it. shortly after i started to dig a bit further into what i was up to and recording my thoughts whenever they blew my hair back a little. over time it's kind of grown into what i'll be posting in this thread. i've tried to steer clear of the social commentary aspect of our hobby, and i am definitely not out to stand on my soap-box.
first and foremost my goal is making certain the fledgling hobbyist is informed as he can possibly be when out on his earliest adventures. being informed keeps him safe, his dates safe, and most of all his loved ones safe. i think of it as a book for dummies, and a reference for the rest of us.
i'm not out to offend anybody, and hopefully the content illustrates that. for me; it is, what it is. the only concerns ill concern myself with are those of the mods. if i've posted anything offensive, or contrary to the rules of their fine establishment, i apologize in advance. i also humbly request a PM explaining any editing they see fit, simply so i may re-work anything i post farther down the line.
please, let me apologize in advance if this comes off as pretentious. for all i know what im posting could be a pile of shit, but it resonated with me and i hope it does with you as well.
The first time I paid for sex, I was 18 years old. It was shortly before I met the first great love of my life. I can’t say why I felt the need to do it, but opportunity presented itself and I grasped it. It was back in the glory days of the hooker strolls. When Richards and Helmken were a haven for the high class and the gullible, Quebec Street from Science World to just before Broadway were more “affordable” for lack of a better term. It was before the Downtown Eastside became the hot button that it is today.
I can’t with any degree of honesty remember her name, or what she looked like. Other than blonde hair and knee high boots, there’s very little else to recall. She took me to an isolated spot off of Terminal Avenue, money was exchanged, and the rest as they say, is history.
Since then, there has never really been any fear or apprehension I experienced when out on my little adventures. None of what you’re reading is anything I’ve picked up from experience. For me it was just always common-sense. I suppose you could say I’ve always been street smart.
What you’re going to find here isn’t an orientation to what’s commonly referred to as “pooning.” It’s a guide to turning you into a better liar. It’s a guide to establishing a second life as it were. It’s a guide to keep not only you, but you’re loved ones safe. There’s a slippery slope that you’re on right now, always remember that. If you’re careful, if you’re smart, you can keep it fun, and draw some positive, and possibly life changing experiences from this “hobby.”
Take all of what you’re about to read with a grain of salt. But should you be married, or a politician perhaps taking some of these thoughts to heart is a good idea.
THE TOOLBOX:
• Prepaid cellular phone
• Your dummy wallet
• Your “Pooner bag”
• Your Drop-Spot
• Prepaid cellular phone
• Your dummy wallet
• Your “Pooner bag”
• Your Drop-Spot
The pre-paid cellular is the primary component of our hobby. It is the quintessential tool in keeping your two worlds from colliding. I won’t get into the companies out there, what they offer, what their air-time rates are. The only thing you need to keep in mind is you’re going to get ripped off. The devices are shitty, expect little to no customer service/support without paying some sort of charge. In short, you’re going to pay. On the other hand, look at it as an investment. The return is anonymity. Paying for your new phone in cash virtually guarantees the paper trail ends as soon as you leave the store.
Anonymity is the key. If you find yourself in a situation where the police are investigating a crime of some sort you can bet dollars to donuts that cellular records are going to be tracked. Get used to this term; paper trail. The buck stops at that phone you picked up at 7-11.
We would all love to live in a world where violent crime, especially against women, didn’t exist. But the cruel fact of the matter is, it does, and just because you don’t partake in it, doesn’t mean you can’t be accused of it. Your pre-paid cellular phone is that extra layer of blanket you need when the power goes out and it’s the dead of winter. If you’re visiting with a girl who happens to have a very busy schedule, and a gentleman further down the line gets a bit too rough…you extract yourself from a sticky situation by immediately destroying the phone.
A more likely scenario is in your travels there may come a day where you fall out of favor with a lady you spend time with. Your pre-paid cellular phone will guarantee that the only person she is going to get in touch with is you. Should you lose that phone, or it falls into the wrong hands you can also rest easy knowing that it doesn’t have anything vital to it other than numbers of the ladies you plan on spending time with. Report it lost/stolen and move on to a new phone.
The flip side of that coin is your real life. Keep your new phone in a safe place where a wife or girlfriend or whoever isn’t going to find it. The last thing you need is someone dialing one of the numbers stored on that phone and having a conversation with a girl who was using your face as toilet paper the day before.
Truth of the matter is you found that phone in a mens room and you’re turning it in to a store tomorrow morning. Right?
• YOUR DUMMY WALLET
The concept of the dummy wallet isn’t really a new one. A careful traveler keeps one on his person should he find himself being robbed. The dummy wallet contains a few sheckles for the mutant ripping you off. Should you be of the meticulous nature you can personalize your dummy wallet to give it a more authentic appearance. What I’m trying to say, smarty pants, is don’t hand over a wallet with a price tag still attached to it. Be creative as you like, just as long as that creativity leads someone away from your real life, rather than towards it.
Should you find yourself in such a situation, don’t offer any sort of resistance. You’re not Jason Bourne. Chances are you’ve run afoul of a couple of junkies needing a fix. Don’t look down on them. Empathize with them. Your date and her pimp/boyfriend have fallen prey to their compulsion the same way you fall prey to yours. As of this writing, $40.00 bucks is a decent score. Ask yourself what kind of poison 40 bucks gets you these days; a decent bottle of rye, a flat of cheap beer, a bit of dope? Coupled with the donation you’ve already offered you’ve made their night. Don’t be an asshole, show a little respect and they’ll let you be on your way. Bottom line, don’t think of it as being robbed. Think of it as the cost of doing business. Give yourself some time to get pissed off about it, then move on to your next encounter. Only next time be a little more through in your research.
• YOUR POONER BAG
I have to be honest, I’ve come to loathe this term. For me it sits amongst buzz phrases like “thinking outside the box” and “hitting the ground running.” That being said, it’s another essential item in your toolbox. Like the dummy wallet, it all comes down to personal preference. Whatever you decide to include in your pooner bag the most vital should be anonymity. Should your bag fall into the wrong hands, the bag and anything in it, should not lead back to you in any way.
Your essentials are: A tooth-brush & paste, mouth wash, a deodorant, condoms, and a small tube of lubricant. The toiletries are a no-brainer. The condoms are for that situation where you find yourself with a less than enthusiastic date who exclaims “oops, I don’t have any condoms, would you mind running down to the store and grabbing a box?|” conveniently after collecting your donation.
Personally, I keep a change of clothes as well. Sometimes I come out of an appointment feeling dirtier than when I went in. but for all the wrong reasons
.
As I said before, the Pooner bag is subjective; no two will ever be the same. I’m a fan of inconspicuous, but should your tastes venture beyond the vanilla in sexual intercourse you may want to consider a drop-spot.
•YOUR DROP SPOT
What is a drop spot? The drop spot is the place you keep that 12 inch veiny black dildo cock and Zorro outfit. This is the spot where the important items from your real life await your return. Your personal cellular phone, your real wallet, your house keys, your wedding ring, in short anything that would be incriminating in your “other world. Think about it. Would Batman keep the keys to Wayne Manor in the Bat-Suit, or the Bat-Mobile? Fuck no.
Should you have no one in your real life to answer to, it won’t matter if you keep anything in the trunk of your car. But should you worry of the day where you have to explain anything to someone; a drop-spot is something you may want to consider to take that cloak of anonymity a bit further.
Your drop spot can be a locker at your local gym. Perhaps a bus station, perhaps your office, just don’t keep it at home in the cupboard next to the fridge. Lying to someone is much more than coming up with excuses, or refuting questions. The bedrock for a lie is deception, and the actions related to it. Keep your actions in check and the deception you’ve engaged in won’t put you in a place where you need to lie to a loved one
•LET ME TELL YOU A SECRET
My first memory of an erection came when I was in kindergarten. It was the first erection I ever had that I associated with the opposite sex. Before you make the joke, I would consider it safe to say that all little boys got them, but they don’t know why. I remember we would sit in a semi-circle and our teacher would sit in the center and once and awhile sing songs on her guitar. The long strip of masking tape that defined this semi circle had our names written in accordance of where we were to sit. Opposite me in that semi-circle was a girl named Nicole, she was wearing a dress and for some reason she hiked up that dress one day and started to take off her undies. It was kind of hard not to see, and the entire class got a glimpse of the-you-know-what. Needless to say our teacher was quick to cover her up. A day or so later a class-mate told me Nicole needed to take “happy pills.” Looking back; the interesting part of the story isn’t my first boner, the interesting part is a kid learning the phrase “happy pills.” Whether or not the kid understood the context of the phrase, I’ll never know.
Coming up:
The Internet Café and You: Sourcing and Setting Up Your Encounters Discreetly.
The Internet Café and You: Sourcing and Setting Up Your Encounters Discreetly.
