The Intellectual Whore

I am a filthy whore. A dirty, filthy whore.

A friend pointed out one day that I may be an intellectual whore. Basically, an intellectual whore is a girl's platonic friend. You see, beautiful, nubile, young women tend to avoid short, stout trolls like me. They go for the chiseled abs, the buffed arms, the fast cars, the large phallus, and so on. Brains are optional. Now these girls are happy for a while. Who wouldn't be when you have a Greek god pleasuring you. But then they realize that something is missing.

Brains.

A new lust builds within these women. They lust for intellectual stimulation. When the batteries run out (from their PSPs) they search for the perfect prey. They search for the ugly guy friend who, like, you know, knows stuff, and yeah.

I guess it started back in college. I met the nicer looking of twins and got nowhere. Short, cute, Filipino, and most importantly, female. This has no point to my story.

Back in college my roommate introduced me to Prodigy. He showed me something called "chat." It was an incredible invention. One for the ages. Through the miraculous use of technology you could hurl insults and profanity at completely random people. It was right up there with the wheel. I got hooked.

I signed on to AOL and began chatting. Through several months I learned things that mere mortals would never know unless they were the average teenager who owned a computer. Online you can lack a voice, good hygiene, or a face, and still be good looking.

Me.

Through use of sheer intellect, genius, and creativity, I became a stud.

Intellectual me.

So in a nutshell, the hot, sexy women pick up the loser guys that ooze testosterone. Then they get their intellectual stimulation from me. Because I'm just a gigolo, and everywhere I go people ask me what I'm thinking...

I also charge only $3.99 per minute.

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