My Not So Secret Diary
My Not-So-Secret Diary
The Mis-Adventures of a New York City Call Girl
Volume I
Valentina Ciaccio
Edited by Paton Scott
With a foreword by Adam
Copyright 2012 by Valentina Ciaccio
Smashwords Edition
This is not a story. There is not a plot, an antagonist, or a protagonist. Nothing you would find in a traditional book. What you are about to read is my actual diary. Each entry is from a day in my life. Perhaps it is a one-on-one session with a client or maybe it is my brain going haywire over a current events story and I share my opinion. The point is, you are getting me. Not a character (although I have been called quite the character on more than one occasion!!)
xo ~ V
Foreword
Welcome to the erotic world of Valentina. Get ready to embark on the most erotic journey of your life. Whether you are male or female, you will be aroused to the fullest. Valentina is the best at what she does and that happens to be sex. If you have ever dreamt it, she has lived it. From a wonderful night out on the town, to the wildest sex, she will leave you wanting more. Sit back, and enjoy the most erotic journey you have ever been on.
~ Adam
“If they gave out a Pulitzer Prize for bright erotic pieces, you would win two!”
“I hope one day to be able to write on a subject with as considerable knowledge as you’ve got on this one!”
“Wow – so incredibly visual. You could feel every detail that took place. Sensational and sensually cleansing to the soul, and the parts below it!”
“Yet again, a brilliant display of raw, hot, erotic talent. Your words are almost as sizzling as what I can imagine your blow-jobs would be!”
“Steamy!!!!”
“You, Valentina, are a very dirty girl!”
“Your profession is misunderstood, over-criticized and therefore, unjustly demonized. You represent fabulously!”
“Stunning read”
May 26, 2010
And So It Starts
When I discussed writing this with business associates of mine, they asked me "Do you really think you can write honestly about prostitution and all of the things that you have done, and do while being a hooker"? I sat back, put my nail in my mouth, and leaned forward and said "Fuck yes"! I guess what they were talking about is that assumed pain or shame that I am supposed to feel because of my profession. The abuse that I take at the hands of the random men that use me every day for their own sexual pleasures, leaving me bitter and maladjusted and unable to conform to society. (If you missed that, you were supposed to insert sarcasm THERE) Let me explain a few things.
First of all, I am a business woman. Am I a whore? Well, that depends on who you ask, and what your definition of each is.
Let’s be real. Growing up, I was not exactly what you would call the virginal type. I was having sex throughout high school, and as a teenager, I was sexing grown men in ways that women their ages couldn't. And as an adult, I had one night stands. The catalyst that turned me from casual whore to professional call girl was a very generous boss, who showered with me with clothes, jewelry, money and a brand new car, and all I had to do was fix what his urologist couldn't. I realized that I had a commodity, something that was quite valuable to me, and people would pay a pretty penny for it. All I had to do was find someone that knew this business and would point me in the right direction. Clearly, I did and the rest is history!!
In the coming days and months, you are going to learn about me, you’re going to follow my adventures, and my mis-adventures, and get some tips-of-the-trade. I hope that this is nothing but entertaining for everyone that reads it. I know I am going to have one hell of a time taking us on this ride!
xo ~ V
All About Blow Jobs
I’m sitting in a bar section of a restaurant with a girlfriend, who is also an escort. We are talking about business, pretty discreetly. I mean, it’s not like we are yelling "Hey, we are high-class companions, come listen to everything we are saying"! That did not stop this adorable woman from coming over and asking me if I were really an escort. It was as if she were meeting a celebrity, and for a moment I wanted to get a pen and a napkin to pen her my autograph! I invited her to sit with us and bought her a drink. She had no idea what to order and so we just got her a glass of wine.
She reminded me of the blonde girl that wanted to wipe the sweat off of Tony's head in "Saturday Night Fever". From out of nowhere, she says, "Can I ask you something"? Oh fuck. I'm sitting here with what is clearly a stage 5 clinger, and now she wants to ask me something. I am not doing her. And I am not working, so please, lady, PLEASE...do not ask me to fuck your husband, because I really just wanted to enjoy some drinks with my girlfriend. I put my glass on the bar and ran my hand across my lap, sort of my way of bracing myself for this. I can see my friends face, she's expecting something great, I mean, after all, she has heard some pretty amazing shit come my way. "Sure"! I say. She giggles. Nerd Herd giggle at that. "How can I give a reeeaalllly good blow job"? Silence. I look at my friend, who is the fucking best. She cracks up laughing and goes "Honey, you just asked the Pope for penance, Paula Dean how to cook"! I am almost certain what she was trying to say is she came to the right one for this! Now my new little friend is laughing, clearly a nervous laugh, my old friend is cracking up at the irony of the whole thing, and I am trying to figure out how I really can help this poor woman, and then get the fuck out of there.
I ask her a lot of questions, and what I get out of it is this: The only time she gives her man head is when she wants something. She always ends up gagging on his hair and never, ever swallows. She does take his dick into her mouth but prefers to just lick it, like a lolli-pop. I also ask her if she wants to be told when he is going to cum and she says adamantly YES!!!!
Ok, so....my professional opinion? The whole fucking thing is wrong. WRONG WRONG WRONG. Her man is probably a client, if not of mine, of someone else. Of a woman that is going to make his oral sex about making him feel desired, wanted, somewhat worshipped. At this point, I really want to just show her how to do it, a pity moment, but I quickly snap out of that.
So here is my advice for how to give a great blow job: if you can't make it, fake it.
It’s that simple ladies. If you can’t take the whole cock down your throat, stick it in your cheek, and then rub it with your tongue. But before you give up, grab some warming, flavored lubricant and make your man your favorite sundae. If it has some of the numbing ingredients, with a little practice, you can greatly improve controlling your gag reflex.
Men are visual creatures, make eye contact. If you have long hair, USE IT!!!! Move close to your man, and smile at him as you slide down his pants, seductively removing them. Lick your fingers, let him see what your going to do to his dick, just keep in mind, it’s about WHAT HE SEES!!! Yes, you want to lick his balls, grab his shaft, etc. But that’s a whole other story entirely....and that is something you really need to learn. But for now, just go with the visual. Move your mouth to the tip of his cock and lick it, and make that seductive eye contact...
As you slide his cock into your mouth, moan, and straddle his leg, and grind. Now, he’s watching you get turned on, and trust me you are giving him a dazzling visual display. If you really want the oh-my-fucking-goodness-she’s-so-hot reaction...take his cock, open your mouth and rub it around your open mouth, over your lips, as your humping his leg, and lick it one or two times.
Start to suck his cock again, and know he is going to finish quickly. The upside to the flavored gels, if you’re using it, it’s a lot easier to swallow. Sometimes you can’t even tell that your guy finished! But if you still don’t think you can, here is a surefire way to get the job done, and leave him satisfied. Don’t wrap your lips around his shaft. Leave them open, and use your hand for the pressure. Press the back of your tongue on his shaft, and of course, your throat will be on his dick too. If you can handle it in your mouth, as you lift, quickly spit it into your hand and go right back. With practice he will never know you did it. The other alternative, as he is cumming, with your lips not tight on the shaft, his cum will escape your mouth and you don’t have to swallow.
Honestly, I have had clients tell me that they love my blow jobs because they can not find someone who swallows, and I have actually used one of the techniques I tried to explain above, leaving them none-the-wiser.
Obviously this is just a small, fast explanation or guide if you will, on how to give a blow job. There is so much more that goes into this, but I can say for sure that the next time my new little friend goes down on her man, he will wonder what the fuck just happened. Even more importantly, once he takes care of her, she will realize that blowjobs are not tools to get what you want, but really great tools to get WHERE you want.....and that is completely and totally sexually satisfied.
xo ~ V
Not The Wife OR The Girlfriend
I have an appointment with what we, in this business, call a "regular". I have had many dates with him, and I know that he is married. On our last date, we are in our usual hotel, and I can tell he is really going to need this. Getting to brass tacks, "John" is on his back, and I am lying between his legs, planting kisses on his lower stomach, with my hair draped over my head, falling all over him. I start to lick his dick. I laugh because it’s so damn hard, and he feels the surge of air from my laughter. His dick moves up and hits my chin. As I start to do my thing, which I know I do well, he grabs my hair into his hand and props his head up onto a pillow and is watching me, and says "Jesus, I wish my girlfriend could suck my cock the way you do".
Now, I am a professional, and I don’t miss a beat, I keep on going and deliver one of my amazing blow jobs, but did he just say GIRLFRIEND? Not wife, GIRLFRIEND???
He finishes, and I get up to hand him his glass of wine. In a jocular way, I say "John, dearest, did you say girlfriend"? "Yep", is his reply. "My wife, that bitch I can't stand, and we don’t even sleep in the same room, you knew that. This one I have been dating for about a year. All of a sudden she wants me to get a divorce and until I do she won’t have sex with me".
You do not know how hard that date became for me, to climb back onto that bicycle and ride it, and ride it well. I wanted so much to smack his head so that his brain went back into place, and his clarity was found. Then it hit me, I have lifetime job security. Here is this poor man, sleeping in a separate room from his wife of over 20 years. They barely talk; much less have any sort of sex-life. He also is hiding his assets. According to him, he has formed a corporation or two where he purchases real estate so that she has no idea of his net worth. (I guess if she realized he is worth more to her if they were divorced, it would be a done deal!)
So, Mr. Brilliant goes off and finds a younger, more sexually charged lady with whom he can live out his fantasy of having sex on demand, sans the nagging, sans the familial responsibilities. That is, until she takes her pedicured toes, clad in Loubi's that he had to put on her feet and starts tapping them making demand after demand. First it’s the very simple demands of time. Then when time is not enough, he sends gifts to compensate. Soon she realizes that the gifts are amazing.....and she wants more. It does not take long until it all hits her. He is worth so much more if she could just have him all to herself!
And then there is me. After all of the insanity in this guy’s life, he comes to me for sanity. Don’t get me wrong, he is up to his eyes in shit, because he brought in on for himself. BUT.....now you see it; now you see the WHY...a client going to his companion for relaxing clarity. For satisfying sex. To be able to reach a point sexually that makes him have to lay down for a while, before he goes back to work, rather than have him cum, jump into his clothes fast enough to get the hell out of the firing zone, dodging any potential shit from the bitch (wife) or the non-sexing bimbo (girlfriend).
That, my friends, is my job. That is what I do. I complete the task, with grace, skill, and sexy ease that the women in my client’s lives can not. Whether it's because they are unhappy, or just unable, it seems that the women in my client’s lives are the ones that are providing me with JOB SECURITY.
xo ~ V
Why the Weiner was Winning
This is the total truth. On all that is holy. A few years ago, I met a man, that for privacies sake, I will call Joe. Joe was connected to me in my "real" life, my corporate job. He provided a service for my company that often had him in a position of power over me. I needed to be nice to him more often than not. Do not get me wrong, I had nooooo problem telling him to go fuck himself if I had to, but really, he was a super nice guy who never gave me shit, or a reason to tell him to go fuck off.
After talking to him for quite some time, I had become curious as to what he was about, what he looked like, etc. So I had reached out to someone at his company that I knew well, and trusted. I said "so what's up with Joe? What's his story?" Quickly I was shot down. "Forget it. He is married, and would never cheat. Don’t get me wrong, he is miserable, hasn't been laid in years, but he’s been with her for like, 20 years and you would kill him. But he would never do it. So forget it."
Now, you have got to be fucking kidding me. That’s like telling me behind that cloth curtain is a million dollars but I can never get past that little flimsy piece of fabric. HA! Let me say that again. HA!
Let me fast forward, because its a process to get to the good part. Although, I do need to add the straw that broke the camels back, was me, legs spread perfectly, palms on the wall, ass out and my head turned looking over my left shoulder just enough. I was illustrating a position that I took in high school as my high school administrator was going to give me "licks", a form of corporal punishment.
So here we are. In the bathroom in my office building, with me bent over the sink, him behind me, fucking me so hard that my head is going to go through the mirror. There was one day that my closest confidant and lookout said to me that the other offices in the building were in the hallway wondering who the fuck that was, screaming like that and tomorrow they all planned on bringing lawn chairs along with popcorn. Yes, this went on daily. In one form or another, in my office, in a car, behind the drugstore, (we like it like that!!) and any other place we wanted and could.
Now, how does this tie into the Weiner debacle? Well, Joe before me was doing his job but losing his mind. He was stressed, he was pulled. He went home miserable and retreated into a place that no one wanted to be. After me, his work performance went WAY up. His health greatly improved. Markedly so, I mean, his employees would say how they thought he found a girlfriend because he was a different person. I would laugh and chuckle, but it’s really not funny.
The Weiner we knew and elected is the Weiner operating on a happy dick. This is a man who lets his shit happen. You almost have to wonder, what kind of job would he have done if he would have been a miserable fuckbag with blueballs? I mean, it’s not like he is doing drugs where he can’t make a CLEAR decision, and he is not downloading child pornography. As for the dumb fuck on the news that was carrying on about the use of tax dollars for him to use a PR person to write a press release or something for some girl to cover for him or whatever that was, I don’t even really know, what about your tax dollars that go to welfare? It probably costs more for ONE fancy ass bullet to go into one of those big mother fucking guns in the Middle East than for one very educated writer to pen a two minute brief. So really, spare me.
So to everyone that is so opinionated on the whole Weiner thing, go get your dick sucked. Get laid. Do ANYTHING to relieve some of that pent up shit you have inside and then, as your laying there, realize this: if your a doctor, you still can get up, go treat your patients with the same accuracy and diligence as you did before. If you are a lawyer, you still can go represent your clients in the same ethical way (ah choo, cough) you did prior. Business owners, your business will not change, you will not all of a sudden become a criminal.
Like my friend Joe, and Congressman Weiner (what a name!), you just might be a better performing (insert your profession here). I really think that what we need to do here is let it go. 99% of the people that have shit to say are people that are jealous that this little big-nosed guy who looks like a little shit doesn’t look so bad after all, and is getting his game on. Let him do his thing, he’s WORKING for the people, which is a lot more than some other people in Congress can say.
Now I feel better. And I did not plan on writing this sermon today, it just flowed from my head to my hands to the paper, so if there are any errors, I’m sorry but I have so much shit to do this morning before this fucking heat wave sets in!!! Happy sexing to you all, xoxo.
xo ~ V
Setting It All On Fire, Literally!
If you know me, you know that I never flinch at spending money. Thrifty is NOT me. But come on!! $200.00 for a pillow?
Rewind. I have a session with my hands down favorite client. We meet out at one of the better hotels on Long Island, and its never just for the hour. I know to plan NOTHING after him, because it just goes on and on. Showering for this date, I am actually smiling, singing and eagerly anticipating his arrival. Part of me wants to call him and say "HURRY THE FUCK UP!!", but I know he will be right on time. I don't want to be too giddy; after all, I am a professional.
He has this thing for my ass, so I wear a black silk get up, with a scoop back that hits the crack of my ass, so that when I open the door, and turn around, I know I can have him in overdrive instantly. I sit on the bed to put my lotion on my legs and I get the text that he is in the elevator so I text him back my room number. Knock Knock.
Hiding behind the door, because I'm a flirt like that, I let in my sexy date. Knowing me well he reaches around, grabs me, and pulls me out as the door automatically closes and locks. He pins me against the wall, kisses me hello, but with a hard "I am going to fuck the shit out of you today" kiss. My legs instinctively wrap around him. I find myself pinned to the wall wanting his dick inside of me already and we are not even forty-five seconds into our session. I know that I need to regroup, or he is going to KNOW that he owns me and my wet kitty. Control? Gone!
He kisses my neck giving me the opportunity to say "well good morning to you too!" He puts his hands on my upper thighs, at my ass; moves us away from the wall, and gets me to a stable standing position so that I can now stand, as best I can on my legs that are now rubber. We are making small talk, about my attire, etc. I am lighting candles around the room. I notice that he leaves my gift on the entertainment center and I had completely forgotten all about that, that’s how lost I get with him. When I am done I move back over to him, now he just has on his shirt and jeans. I begin to unbutton his shirt and kiss his chest, following the trail of open buttons, smelling his soap, getting more and more turned on. Before me, I see a man, so ready for me. It’s a feast, and I don’t even know where to begin.
Fortunately, I don’t have to worry; because my super sexy date is so fucking masculine, so on point...he picks me up and flips me over. With his open shirt hanging over me he is kissing me on my mouth, breathing his breath into my lungs. His hands, hands that I know for a fact are violently strong in martial arts; have my hair wrapped around them, in the softest way. His head moves lower, down my neck, to my collar bone, and slides the straps of my garb off my shoulder so my arms can slip out. Releasing my hair, he cups my breast into his hand and licks my nipple while he is looking at me, watching me enjoy every single thing that he does.
Fast forward, because I can really give you every single detail of this session, he is that fucking amazing. After he licks me all over, up down and in between, I get on top of him. Now I am so wet, that I am worried that I am going to be like a slip and slide on his super hard dick, so I have him lift his legs, in order for me to put my legs under his and really wrap my wet pussy tightly onto his roaring cock. Imagine if you will, I am sitting up on him, riding him with such intensity, my ONLY goal at the moment is to have him release. My mindset is that he is such a man, who needs me, ME, a sexy goddess to ride him so that his primal purpose can be achieved. I am grinding, bouncing, looking at him.....moaning.
And then..............................
What is that smell? Do you smell something burning? We both do. I can’t stop fucking him. I don’t care if the whole building is a pile of ashes, this man is cumming. In my head I am hearing Burn baby Burn!!!! Disco Inferno!!! Much to my chagrin, he puts his hands on my hips, lifts his head, and he says, "Baby, wait, something IS on fire!!! And we look, and there is SMOKE on the side of the bed!
I really am serious, I’m not stopping.....but he rolls to the side causing me to pop off of his dick And he gets up and when I look, I see him standing there, with such a wonderfully hard cock, but I do happen to notice in his hand, a synthetic fiber pillow, nicely on fire!!!!! It seems that one of us tossed it, right onto a burning candle. Fortunately for me, his calm, rational demeanor led him into the bathroom where he doused the flames with the shower, and the damages to the room were minimal. Leaving the pillow in the bathroom, he quickly joined me in the bed, and got on top....so he could nibble on my pouty lip. I could not imagine how he could leave me to put out a fire!!! I guess that whole superhero complex is stronger in some than others, who knows. But my hero of the day managed to slip back into his role as super lover, as he quickly brought me back to my second O, and when he did finish, it was as perfect and hard, just as I anticipated in the shower earlier.
When I check out of the hotel a few days later and on my bill, I see an additional $200.00!!!! So I address the manager, with whom I am well acquainted with at this point. She tells me it was for the "pillow barbeque" that I had! I was so furious at that moment. This pillow was NO WAY valued at $200.00. This must be the natural order of checks and balances in action because to release the fury, all that I had to do was think about the session, the moment spent with my favorite client of all time. Reflecting, I realized that pillow could have been $2,000,000.00 and it would have been worth every single cent.
xo ~ V
Let’s Play Doctor
I try to keep a good schedule, but no matter how hard I try, occasionally, there are bumps in the road. Especially because my clients are businessmen, celebrities, Judges right on down to the unemployed (yes, I see him on Tuesday, once his unemployment hits, go figure!). So whenever that unexpected bump hits, I try my best to shuffle things so that everyone is happy.
So it goes when I get a call from "Lou". He can’t get out of his office, patients are flowing in by the handful, but he is going to explode if he does not see me, and frankly, I really want to see him. I send him a fast text telling him that if he is up to it, I can meet him IN his office, and we can really have a great time. Normally he is super conservative, taking every precaution. I am really not sure what it was about today, but he said to be at his office after five. His secretary would be gone, and there shouldn't be many patients left to see.
I get there at five thirty, and there are two people in the waiting room. Clearly they are in dire need of medical attention, and I start to wonder if I look too much like a "pro". From my seat in the waiting room I can hear my "friend" talking. It was so exciting for me, to hear him being himself, doing his thing, if you will, since whenever we spend time together, it’s sexual. When he came out of the room, and saw me through the window, he skipped a beat, and it was evident that I did it to him, but he recomposed and called for the gentleman to my left.
The woman left in the waiting room was writing out her bills. In an attempt to make small talk, she asked me how long I had been coming to see the Doctor. I had to think quickly, since I had no idea how long he had actually been practicing. I said "Since he’s been in this office!" Great fucking answer!!!! She is so nice, I almost felt bad that I was about to defile the SHIT out of her doctor. She then says to me, "I have to go to the ladies room, aso if I am not back in time, you can go before me, I have nothing to do". WOW. The patient he called before leaves, so its just me and my friend, and he whispers to me that I look great. I of course thank him and advise him that his other patient insisted that I go in before her. Without a beat, he says OK!!!
We walk into the treatment room, he closes the door, and I put my belongings down. There is a window with a ledge that he leans on, arms crossed, looking at me. "Do you think this is a good idea?" he asks. "Well, good idea or not, I'm here, I'm horny". He smiles. I look around and realize that this is going to be fun. I walk to him slowly; I lean into his ear and whisper "So, tell me, where it hurts?" He says "You are the doctor; you should be able to figure it out!" I’m in love. He has jumped right on board, knows just where I am going with this. I instruct him to sit on the table, and when he does, the sound of the white paper crinkling made me instantly wet. I have to tell you, I have never fantasized about being a doctor or had any sort of finger-up-the-ass thing, but it was really hot, and it had not even started.
"Tell me, what have you been feeling, what are your, uh, hmmmm, symptoms?" I asked him. I’m now starting to undress. He is watching me, and he says "Tightness, in my pants. I have this strong desire to slide my cock into a wet hole, and move my body repeatedly back and forth. My balls keep tightening up". I am dying, really. "How often does this occur?" I ask him, now standing in front of him with my hands on his thighs, his legs spread a little...."All the time" I ask him if anything makes it better or worse, and he says that I make it more intense. Now, clearly I have no medical training, so I am going to wing this, so.....I open his pants, I take out his raging dick and lower my mouth to it and take the whole thing into my mouth, deep. Slowly I lift my head and then go up to his mouth and kiss him and say "Does that make it better, or worse?" Barely audible, I hear "Better".
I lower my mouth and start to lick and suck his wonderful cock, and his hands are on my head. He really did need this, because he is so hard that the thought of how he is hitting the back of my throat is making me want to fuck him in the worst (or should I say BEST!!!) way. With each downward thrust, I am rotating my head a little, in a twist. He is trying very hard not to moan, since we have NO idea if his waiting patient is back yet.
I am massaging his balls with the hand that is not following my mouth on his dick and I can feel them getting tight. Careful not to make him cum, I stop with my mouth; I am rubbing his dick with my hand, and we are kissing now, deeply and passionately. I am so turned on. He has his arms around me, pulling me into him and I beg him, yes beg him to fuck me. "Do you really want me to fuck you, Doctor?" he says. "Oh, yes!" I say back. With that, he guides me up, onto him. I’m straddling him, on the table. I reach down and guide his dick slowly into my pussy, so wet, and so ready for him. I hear the paper crinkling and I stop, but he says "Don’t stop, I don’t care!" so I just thrust down onto him so hard, looking at his face. His eyes close a little bit, but not all the way and I really don’t know who is enjoying this more, me or him. Deep in me, his hands grab my hips and hold me, and he lifts himself so that he is as deep as he can be. He’s going in small circles, but because he is that deep, my clit is rubbing the base of his cock. I’m clearly going to finish before he does, and he knows that silence is NOT one of my strong points. I lean over, and BITE his shoulder to silence the scream that I want to let out. My body is shaking as I am cumming all over him, on his examining table.
Careful to not be very loud, I lift off of him slowly so that he can get behind me. Bending over, I place my palms on the table. My "patient" stands behind me and slides his ridiculously hard cock into me, and I lower my head onto my arm. There is no way in hell that I am going to be able to keep quiet. I look over my shoulder at him and open my eyes wide; he smiles, knowing the issue. Leaning forward, he puts his hand into my mouth, stifling the little bit of moaning that is escaping. The pace begins to increase and he leans forward and says "Dr., do you think this will solve my problem?" I nod. I really can't risk saying one word, because it will be a wash, I will lose it. I feel him grab my side, pull me, hard and his finger tips go into my skin, as I bite his fingers that are in my mouth. He drapes his body over mine, we are really pretty exhausted, but amazed at the skill we just did that with.
We are regrouping, and I am trying to figure out when is it ok to start talking again??? We had been so quiet to this point!! I cough a really bad fake cough, he hits me on the ass and laughs. I loosen up and relax and I give my doctor friend a great kiss goodbye then we exit the room. He walks me out, and I really can’t help but think how much I love my job. I really do.
Xo ~ V
Just Me
Lately I have been sharing some of the sexier moments of my "life". But since it’s a rainy Sunday and I am bored out of my mind, I think I will turn down the volume and the heat a little bit. Give you a little more info, a little more "me". Since I started this diary, I have gotten a lot of emails, with a lot of questions. Some of them have been really great, and have made me think. Some, sorry to say, have been really fucking stupid.