Hey. Do you like prostitutes, friend? I totally love 'em. After all it's the oldest profession on Earth. Hookers have a lot in common with politicians, journalists and actors... All of whom can either be artists or poseurs, turning cheap, dirty tricks — or answering a true calling. It's easy to say that women who, voluntarily or not, got into this craziness are weak, stupid, and spineless sluts. But are they not just satisfying demand? We all know that without them some would go bonkers from loneliness, fear, frustration and all kinds of complexes. I say without a smidgeon of irony: Most of these women, who by whatever twist of fate, became professional satisfiers of pathetic male fantasies are far more decent and fair than their despicable clientele. I totally get guys who say sex with hookers is the purest, most honest kind of sex that anyone can ever have. While a free-of-charge quickie can cost so much more... leaving behind such a residue of shame and cynicism for all involved that no matter how hard you try to you can never wash it off.

And so I ask you — is there anything new that can be said about this storied topic of old? Not a goddamn thing. We can only shrug our shoulders. Or as we walk along the streets watching 13 and 14 year old girls hop into random cars we can be dumbfounded again and again from the sheer inconceivability of this scene. Or am I wrong?

Ouch! And what's this monument? It's to an unknown, um... It says it's for an unknown hooker?? What the...? Well... Why the hell not? For the boys who go missing in action in senseless wars they build entire parks as memorials. Isn't this also a battlefield? Isn't the world of prostitution one big slaughterhouse? Of course it's naive to think that fantasies about Prince Charming will soon stop turning the heads of girls dreaming of rom-com lives. Where a handsome man in a fancy car sweeps then off their feet and puts a ring right on their finger.

Let the prudes grind their perfect teeth to dust right now, cuz, baby, this bronze beauty IS going to stand somewhere along 5th Avenue, or the Champs-Élysées — some glorious main street of our cities. I command it! A giant woman in a provocatively short dress, rain or shine, an eyesore eternally waving horny men down. Forcing every passer-by to engage their brains and decide for themselves — what do they think of it.

— And what's this monument?
— It's in honor of the Noble Hooker.
— An actual prostitute monument? What for?
— What for? Because... they're good-looking, of course.