The biggest problem with sex work is that it's not 'WORK' in the Marxist sense of the word.
Prostitutes are not proletariat, they are not selling their labor power in order to live.
They are the Bourgeoisie, the 'rentier class' living off the monopoly of pussy.
Pussy is not a 'good' in the same sense as coffee, steal or shoes are.
Pussy is private capital inherited by birth.
This mode of ownership and control of the pussy establishes the conditions that enable the prostitutes (bourgeoisie) to exploit the kerb crawlers (proletariat).
Pussy creates 'rentier' income from ownership and control of assets that generate economic rents rather than from capital or labour used for production in a free competitive market.
This order of things exploits and oppresses the proletariat.
'Sex work' is capitalist terminology, a plot to prevent the working classes (kerb crawlers) from reaching class consciousness, raising a successful revolution and thus the dictatorship of the proletariat by means of seizing (grabbing) the means of production (pussy).
If this social media manipulation does not strike you as obvious and simple, think about it in old terms.
Would Lenin approve of a red flag with a hammer, sickle and a c*nt?
I highly doubt it.
Once pussy is nationalized it will be distributed to the working classes in a fair and transparent manner. State-owned brothels can easily be opened in the places where the pussy is abundant.
In regions of pussy scarcity, such as small towns and villages, there are useful models and evidence based practices to implement.
Some suggest we use the popular term 'polyamory'.
I think a more appropriate term is Pussy Kolkhoz.
Pussy Kolkhoz is a form of pussy distribution cooperative of peasants that voluntarily unite for the main purpose of joint pussy sharing based on collective labor.
This will undoubtedly maximize the total happiness of the members of the community.
Reactionaries and counter-revolutionaries will try to subvert this scheme by spreading false rumors on it's failures and the alleged pussy starvation in some regions.
There will be no Pussy Famine, comrades. There will be no Hole-o-Domor.
This is scientific socialism.
What about those who oppose the class struggle and wish to maintain their monopolist positions?
What about the 'Sexual Kulaks'?
Expropriation by any means. Grueling office work followed by drinks with colleagues and free Tinder premium for all employees.
Repent, capitalist.
In order to prevent the very idea of privatization of pussy in early stages, education must be ensured at a very young age for both the proletariat and the bourgeoisie.
'Pussy owners, you have nothing to lose but your chains!'
Comrades,
Not having sex harms your health.
Not getting pussy can kill you.
Accepting the cruel nature of capitalist bourgeoisie makes everyone unhappy.
Another world is possible.
Don't let the words fool you.
Nationalize pussy.
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
It’s Tuesday morning in an open office and life is completely pointless.
But even though you walk through the valley of fake smiles and menopausal screeches, you fear no evil, for you know that salvation is here at the end of the corridor.
The toilet. The last refuge.
A place to escape the prying eyes of NPCs, to sit and enjoy ten minutes of Twitter feed and tranquility, broken only by rasping sounds of flatulence and painful grunts of elder colleagues.
The last question was asked for the first time, half in jest, on Oct 27th 2034. around 6AM on at Jesuit Refugee Service center in London's Borough of Tower Hamlets.
Alexandra Adelle and Berta Lips were two of the faithful attendants of the orgy.
Students of journalism during the week, they made some extra cash on OnlyFans and working as hostesses on the regular Love Thy Neighbor parties.
After a two day meth^2-fueled orgy Alexandra walked out of the shower and prepared lines of H-speed on a Victorian cast iron mirror.
Berta Lips was just waking up next to an inhumanly obese passed-over-drunk octogenarian Arab.
Alexandra was 22, yet felt so old and spent.
For the last 8 years she's been hearing about just how lovely her breasts look and how the hormonal therapy is working just great.
We have returned to the office at a 50% capacity. The men are fatter and the women are even more unpleasant.
And among the ruins of what was once a respectable occupation stood George, half-man half-copying machine.
During the lockdown George put on at least two stone. He's not farmer-fat or truck-driver-fat. His fat deposits are formed by endless hours of sitting in a computer chair and on a computer. He once said a story of driving a bicycle to work and getting 'really REALLY tired'.
George's eyes are big, blue and bulging. His skin is pale and his breathing is quick and shallow. His steps are small and wide due to thighs rubbing against each other.
He is friendly and polite, yet his neuroticism reaches levels that are clinical. At first I wondered why.