I seriously think the word 'whore' has lost it's cultural relevancy and, as a result, I think I have no choice but to strike it from my conversational repertoire. Don't get me wrong, this isn't political correctness manifesting itself onto my ever-changing psyche. It's simply that I think the word no longer has meaning and, therefore, I can no longer place my trust it in as a relayer of a meaningful and representative information.

We all know what the word means: a chick (though, in recent times, it's been applied to men as well) who screws around. Recently, I reached the conclusion that, at some stage, you're supposed to screw around in order to learn more about yourself, your body, the world and more. Once you've done some learning, you are now in a position to say 'You know what? I've screwed around, it's not as satisfying as it can lead you to believe, I now want one person who'll fuck me right and treat me good'. Or, you could decide that this is what you like and you can then embark on a career in the porn or sex industry or even get married but maintain a swinging lifestyle. Either way, you've decided what you want and being a whore allowed you to better come to terms with your own needs.

Since my firm belief is that everyone needs to be a whore at some stage of their sexual and social development, ergo the word doesn't really mean anything. Later on, if you decide that you want to maintain that same level promiscuity, you're merely following your calling and are more empowered for it. Therefore, the word 'whore' can only be applied, in anger, to people who represented themselves as exclusively, say, monogamous and later turned out to be, well, whores. In other words, hypocrites who can't come to terms with their own whoredom. In other words, 'whore' is a loaded term that's certainly not very accurate. I still plan to use it, because it pisses people off, but I have no intention of meaning it.

That's because I'd rather deal with a so-called whore who's, at the very least, honest about his or her preferences than someone like Carmen's aunt, who's trapped in and by her own contradictions, self-delusion and, in essence, jealousy of what she's intrigued by but can't admit to ever wanting to experience. I don't deal with no fronters yo.