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Where are the Whores of Yesteryear?
By Fred Beare

Here I was back in the 1960s thinking that Adam West, who gave a camp portrayal of the basically gay superhero Batman, was a gay fellow. Now, after he has gone to the great bat cave in the sky, we have been told that at his peak he used to bat up to eight groupies a night:

Holy cow Batman, Whamm! Whap! Zamm!

I must admit that my previous negative view of Batman was produced by a Catholic priest I knew of (only through my first wife, a Catholic moron), who liked young boys, and who had a massive Batman and Robin collection, including dolls, which I suspect he used as sex toys. He had the whole 1960s series taped back when there was no internet. He kept the tapes with his porno collection. It is amazing what secrets one can find by house-breaking (not by me).

How did West knock over eight sluts in a night? This is a feat, or feet, I could not do. So, I did some research and rang Bob, who runs a brothel. He knocks over all the girls trying out in job interviews, and claims to have gonads the size of oranges, and apparently the same color too. “Bob,” I said, “How did Batman do so many?” “It’s easy Fred,” he said, using perfect punctuation, “Just don’t shoot. You see these women are likely to be pretty slack down below in the friction department, so unless you put your mind to it, or are simultaneously watching porn as you pump, you can just go from hole to hole without leaving precious body fluids. Be like a bee, and you will see.” So speakest Bob, the whorehouse poet. So, now I know; such are the levels of research I put into my work here.

But, I wonder: where do the women who contribute their vaginal tissue to so many alphas jacking off in their holes, go? Do they after a time become feminist philosophers, or do they enter politics? Or, are they the next generation of wives for dumb beta males, who are only too happy to be supplying them with a meal ticket for the little bit of friction still possible on a long pot-holed road?

No sooner had I written that last line, feeling very smug, did I happen to stumble upon the work of the first sex worker with a PhD, who may enlighten us about burnout issues:

I would also like to work in Leda and the Swan somewhere, but lacked the necessary literary gism to do so:

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Own the collected works of John Saxon, Professor X, Eirik Blood Axe, William Rapier and other counter culture critics, on Kindle, via the link below.


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