The faces of prostitution in Australia

[Outlaw Yogi]

On the flip side, when my self made millionaire father was going through divorce and my nut job mother was spending $10,000 a month plus petrol, he found it more economical to use prostitutes that get a new partner, and he claimed the working girl he was seeing at the time said she did love her job, especially the desire of her customers and attention they payed her.

You really think that someone he is paying for sex is likely to tell him anything else?

Why not?

It's easy money foy laying on your back.

EDIT ADDITION - Actually the best money is in the fetish game. Those blokes pay big bucks for their fantasies to be fulfilled and the girl doesn't even have to have sex with them if she doesn't want to

[Neferti]

Is there anything you haven't done, yet, Yogi? Time is running out, mate.

Haven't been to Mars, the Moon, or beyond the Pacific ocean.

Do you really live such a sheltered life?

Nope. I find your postings most interesting but also sort of similar to what I have heard over the years.

I have a long-time male friend called Dave, he has similar stories to tell and it is like a re-run of what you are saying. Dave is harmless but can spin a great tale. His father was a Copper in Melbourne. He states he has gone "the other way". I doubt he has done anything other than DUI (several times).

[Outlaw Yogi]

Fair enough. I was getting the impression you think I'm telling bullshit stories.
I realise much of what I've experienced is out of the ordinary for most people, but some parts of my life have been quite out of the ordinary, and good or bad I'm glad for it.
I consider such things learning experiences that have given me a broad understanding of other people, and in particular their motives. So while probably egotistic to say so, I think I can read most people like a book.

Here's an anecdote on disbelief. I had quit the club and was sleeping on some mates' lounge in Sutherland for about 6 weeks. My youngest brother had skipped bail so was on the run from the Jacks. He'd bought the Marlin lever action 45/70 from a friend of both of us, that I'd earlier borrowed and put in my chapter sargeant's face in my front yard in Condell Parl/Bankstown because they had Ruger Blackhawk .357 revolvers and I only had a take down semi auto .22 with me that jammed on hollow points and I only had hollow points with me, meaning I had to load each shot manually 1 at a time.
He was living in a junkie den flat in Engadine (where we grew up) and I said the Marlin was either going to get ripped off or lost to Jacks in a raid and I wanted it. Plus at $3 a shot (now $6-7 a shot) he couldn't afford t run it, so he should sell it to me.
He agreed and got a mate he'd known from school to drive him to where I was staying.
I got up him for letting that bloke know where I was, because he was friends with another bloke I'd helped join the club and was still a member, thus now an enemy.
Sure enough that mate got drunk and blabbed to the that member.
While I was out 2 blokes were seen checking out my latest car (green fairmont - changed cars roughly every 6 months) so I moved to a young woman's place (only 1 steet/block away) I'd let stay at my place years earlier as a 15 year old runaway. Within 5 days my car was spotted again and a rear window smashed by afore mentioned member because I'd run his bike over outside Engadine Hotel (and other members burnt my grandparents (unoccupied) farm house down (which they'd looted 2 or 3 months ealier - I lost 3000 rounds of 7.62X29mm ammo - fits SKs and AKs).
I moved again, to another young woman's place who had been the girlfriend of a mate in a social bike club I'd been with prior to joining the outlaw club. She was now a speed junkie pregnant to a pisshead named Doug, and lived in a flat on the other side of Sutherland (I hid my car in the underground car park).
One day she said Doug doesn't believe you were with the ..........s (outlaw club). I replied "Good, if he doesn't believe it, there's very little chance he's going to narc me into the club(as to my where abouts).
I already had numerous firearms, but the cops where asking my father about me and what was happening. They'd asked if I had any guns, and if not did I have access to any.
I was told go and see Flemington Ds r they's get uniforms to pull my car over when spotted, meaning I'd be disarmed. I refused to go to Flemington because Fossil drinks at Flemington, but agreed to meet them at Hurstville, and I gave them mud map plans to all the club houses.
I got word of 2 stolen stainless steel pump action shot guns. Normally I wouldn't buy stolen property because if it's OK fr me to buy something stolen from someone else, it's OK for someone to buy something stolen from me. But I was in a dire situation and wanted as many guns as I could lay my hands, so if one was confiscated by Jacks, I could instantly replace it.
I offered $500 fr one of the shot guns, but never got it.
Pisshead Doug wound up with one and decided to cut it down to do armed robs. The moron cut though the barrel and feed tube/magazine, then wondered why it didn't work anymore.

The mate I'd borrowed the Marlin 45/70 from, who'd sold it to my brother had also skipped bail and was staying at the same flat I was in Sutherland. He told Doug I had been with afore mentioned bike club and had run one of their bikes over. Then Doug's sucking up my arse at Janali Inn.

The club were pissed off that I kept going back to my grandparents farm roughly every 2 weeks because their Prez lived (and 4 members) in the same {Macdonald} valley (inland from NSW central coast, and I was supposed to be too scared to go there. Plus I knew the valley better than they, and could easily pick off the Prez in his backyard from across the river.
One evening I randomly decided to go up the farm, and 15 minutes later 4 members turned up at the unit complex looking for me. I knew someone was dobbing me in, but didn't know who, and had suspected the wrong bloke.

I moved to a prostitute's flat at South Hurstville (originally from Cronulla/Woolaware.
Sitting at a kitchen table 3 people who included the prostitute and the bloke who'd sold my brother the 45/70 were telling me it was my youngest (speed junkie) brother who was telling the club where I was. I refused to believe it. He'd previously borrowed the prostitutes Suzuki 4WD and had never returned the keys. Soon I realised someone was getting in the flat while unoccupied s figured it was my brother, as he had keys.
I broke into my adopted sister's house near Campbelltown because that was where he was staying. While ratting through his (mostly stolen) belongings I found his book.
In it there were a number of lists. Everyone who owed him (drug) money. Everyone he owed (drug) money too. Everything of value he thought he owned, and a list of my assetts - my bikes, my cars, ect ect.

Then I was convinced he was the one informing the club where I was, so I took his book and TV. Then I broke in again and put caustic soda in his syringe. Lucky for him he didn't go home that day. He got caught at Sutherland with a satchel of speed dregs and went to Parramatta gaol/jail. A few days later the prostitute I stayed with (who was on bail for assault police - ripped cop's shirt trying to prevent them entering her flat over a a break in and assault her borrowed Suzuki had been used for) had a fight with neighbors (always had constant dramas going on) was put in the women's section at Silverwater.

I went to see my adopted sister and (financially) patched things up over breaking into her house. A few days after that (1 week after my brother's arrest) I got into a police pusuit and was put in Parramatta gaol/jail (where my junkie brother was).

He thought that because he'd befriended other inmates they'd back him. So he's challenging me about breaking in and taking his book, but was mistaken. Both my brothers are bigger than I, but I've had 2 codes of martial arts training since a child. I gave him a quick bashing on the oval and disappeared into the crowd before the chiefs/screws/warders could get down from the towers on the wall. I heard someone in the crowd ask "What's with this pair?" and somene reply "They're brothers". Which was sort of funny 'coz everyone got arund calling each other "Bro" and the only 2 real brothers in there didn't.

Several weeks later the chiefs asked "Would you like t share a cell with your brother?". I replied "yeah, that'd be good". So I moved from 5 wing to 6 wing. In our cell at night he quizzed me about the break in, and I told him why. To which he denied putting me in to the club. In gaol/jail anyone you know from outside is your friend even if you don't like them because you know them. The discussion went on for a bit and I said "Ok, I'll take yur word for it because you're my brother, but if I find out you're lying you had better kill me or hide forever otherwise I will kill you".
He said "Don't make threats". I replied "It's no threat, I broke in and put caustic soda in your syringe, but you wound up here instead, so the Jacks saved your life".

Much later once both out of gaol/jail but not on speaking terms again I was speaking to my father on the phone, and he said "..... reckons yu tried to kill him" (but didn't believe it), I replied "That's right, I did" and told him what I did and why. Which he accepted because he knows my brother is a lost cause piece of shit.

Hows that for a tale?

EDIT ADDITION - the O key on my laptop isn't working properly, I've re-edited a couple of times to fix it, but what I've written seems to be full of words missing a O/o, so if a word is incomplete, just put a "o" in it.