8/21/2008

Naughty Little Doggie

From Radar’s delightful and utterly ridiculous Secrets of a Hipster Hooker:

Last year Kelly met a new client, an aging punk rock pioneer who was staying at the London NYC hotel. Kelly was a fan of his music, but wasn’t aware of who he was until after their session. (He had booked under his real name; she knew him only by his stage name.) “He wanted me to force-feed him dog food,” she says disgustedly. “I mean, that was just too much for me.”

Megan64  

Is that Iggy or the guy from Mad TV?

Chels  

yeah but i heard he likes getting Parvo shots, which is a little much…

lovefaces  

zomg the guy who shot all over the dollar bills. that’s so bret easton ellis!

Riboflavin  

picturing a leg twitching when you rub his tummy situation.

nero  

dry or wet?

spencer  

now we’re asking the right questions.

Breena  

I don’t buy it. For $950/hr she would feed him real dog.

Bianca  

its always interesting to hear or read about where hookers draw the line. they’ll usually do everything else except that one thing. like the girl on American Pimp who wouldn’t kiss.

Smith  

“are all dues-paying members of the International Sex Worker Foundation for Art, Culture, and Education”

bet they have kiosks where you can sit and watch the Lady Marmalade video over and over.

Suomynona  

Just as we’re settling the bill, my phone vibrates in my purse. It’s a text from the madam: “Do you have a slip on you?” I text back: “Slip?”

“Rubber” is the one-word response. I generally don’t carry them, but in my wallet I happen to have one of the NYC condoms the Department of Health distributes all over the city. When I text the madam back, I know—with a tingle running down my spine—that I am crossing both personal and journalistic boundaries. “I do,” I type. Before I know it I’m dashing home to put on some makeup for a two-hour appointment with one of her clients.

Whew, that was a close call. What luck that she happened to have a condom in her purse. She was this close to catching the AIDS on the way back to her apartment.

spencer  

I think this is when I stop believing.

Bill Brasky  

Why would the reporter go over to the madam’s apt after she runs out on the John in the hotel? And I wonder if Radar paid the supposed two grand that she owed the Ivy League boss lady. The whole story stinks, now that I really think about it.

Scripts