You mean whores.
...
Let's say that I buy this. And let's say that I'm fucking whores right now. Like two at a time in some kind of sinful sodomy sandwich. What do I care about The Truth? Is The Truth something I'm pondering during the sex-coma periods between blowing load or what? Unlikely. I'm thinking about pastrami, yo.
Playa-Guidos aren't philosophers.
See this website for proof.