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Home > World

WAWIBF: Punters

Or whatever you want to call them - johns, tricks, kerb-crawlers, brothel-creepers, whore-mongers, hooker-bookers, Filthy Archers.

4 November 2003

The truth is, no-one's ever really given much of a damn about punters. For millennia, organisations and concerned individuals have sought to make the plight of the humble whore more bearable, but no-one has ever shown any concern for their customers, these tragic, pitiful men who simply cannot function without handing over their hard-earned for the dubious pleasure of emptying their balls into a depressed drugged-up runaway who despises them. Until now.

Step forward, Caritas.

Caritas, essentially an Italian umbrella charity organisation, was set up by Pope Paul VI in 1971 to help Christians in need. Muslims, Jews and Scientologists in need can go fuck themselves, naturally, but the Christians have a friend in Caritas. And now so do Italyís whoresmen, as Caritas is soon to start a helpline for these troubled souls. A web-based helpline where these poor widely-misunderstood men, frustrated by their staid marriages, bored to death by their wivesí bodies and carnal repertoire, can discuss their desires, their problems, their pain.

As it is in many traditionally religious countries, prostitution is very widespread in Italy. This is probably because religion fosters an extremely backward attitude towards sex. As any good Catholic knows, God created sex for procreation, and NOT for pleasure. In Italy, much as in Saudi Arabia, wives and mothers are for cooking and cleaning, and whores are for sucking and stuffing bicycle pumps up your arse. The Catholic Church then, in conspiring to keep sex out of marriage, is actually directly responsible for the enormous daily flesh trade in Italy and many other repressed countries. So it does have a responsibility to men who whore. However, it also has a responsibility to the nation's wives and mothers who are forced to take solace in sordid affairs in order to get their sexual jollies.

So, at the end of the day, as with most anything else, it's that bastard Godís fault.

Oh, the Shame:


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