What U Up To?

Satan pulled up on yo boi and stared him in the eye

I thought I would die but he simply said..

What you up to?

Ignoring the girls that maybe like you?

Spending too much money, that’s not like you

While you think about the girl with blue hair, yeah that’s what I do

Trolling around with blondie thots on Snapchat? Man..
fuck you

You gotta get an education that’s what you should do

Before big government comes around and drops you

Don’t buy the Rollie, you a fool

Money and investments are a tool, but you never learned that at school so

It’s almost 2 am, go to sleep dawg it’s over

Oh I forgot, it’s Mr. Insomnia forever

Oh he thinks he clever

Whatever..

Lucifer vanished after dropping some bars

I went back to “bed” to “sleep”

Rinse, lather, repeat

And the beat goes on

Get Rich Kwik

We live in a sOcIeTY.. where there is an insane amount of money to be made at any given minute

Sadly, no one really knows how to get said scharole easily (without being a massive grifting jackoff)

The promising potential of crypto bubbles for example, no one can tell if their coin of the month is the golden ticket to riches until they get the deposit in the bank

Or alternatively lose all their cash and kill themselves

You catching my drift aren’t ya?

We all wanna be big dick swinging ballers making hella coin and clocking hoes daily

But it ain’t ez, just like pimpin’

Maybe selling courses and lying about your qualifications on Twitter while living abroad is the answer instead of investments and hard work?

Or going to a sleazy stock broker to scam me because I don’t do research?

How about a side hustle that gives me zero cash while I fool myself into believing it is worth it as I go fucking broke?

No, no..

Becoming an OnlyFans digital agent/promoter?

Maybe.. I like tits

Goddammit! How the fuck can I (legally) make money so I don’t have to be enslaved by the government during the upcoming 4th Reich?

Oh the struggle of our little lives

I just wanna make it out the hood

I mean, it’s a nice hood. Pretty safe. Lot of criminals living in harmony.. We don’t bother our own

Wu-Tang really had it correct

C.R.E.A.M.

CASH RULES EVERYTHING AROUND ME

DOLLA DOLLA BILLS YAAAALL

The Tudy Chronicles

As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster”

-Henry Hill

Who doesn’t want to be a gangster? Think about it for a minute.

You got steady access to top notch cigars, your friends are all ball breaking tough guys, you rob and cheat people out of their money and you get fly bitches despite being fat.

Fugget about it!

In this day and age when the governments cheat and whack us all daily.. who doesn’t want to give it a shot themselves? They can’t have all the fun!

Imagine yourself as a 6’0 wiseguy in floral shirts or a snappy blazer. You walk down Mulberry street with your head held high on your way to shake down innocent ethnics. You lay a few beatings and pay off some witnesses with a few bucks. So much fun.

You’re feared and beloved by misguided youths. They carry your moms bags out of respect. Lovely.

You run a harem of goomars while you have a wife and son at home. Beautiful.

Sure, you have to whack some good people along the way. Some friends you love. Lot of blood on those hands.. Oof madone, but you made an oath. Family first. And it pays. You’re a good soldier. Capo soon, God willing.

I mean, yeah.. Eventually you get pinched. Do time upstate. Lose it all. Probably because some ratfuck sang about you. The same man you invited over to dinner weekly. He hugged your kids.. No big deal.

You get out. Earn again. Rebuild. Wife gone. Kids messed up on the junk.

But there’s always a promotion around the corner. Hoes still sucking you. You’re a legendary hitman. No worries. Life is tight.

If you’re lucky, you reach 55. You’re an old fuck now. That promotion to underboss never came. You’re in a rot. Feds still gunning for your ass. It’s a new world. RICO is a motherfucker.

You become an old timer and an afterthought. No earning for the family, a burden. Hookers and skifooza floozies are your hobby and only skill.

You die of cancer and on your deathbed realize you had it all. The woman you loved is gone and you were better off going legit. Your kids will suffer from your mistakes.

Being a gangster is good.

Was it worth it?

The action, violence, pussy, the cash, the clout, the fear? Being the fucking man?

Would you do it over again?

Hell fucking yeah.

Pseudo-Rich Life

It’s 8 PM.

I’m bored and wanna go out. I anxiously approach the closet to pick out fashionable attires and open it, a gay midget jumps at me and claws my face!

I punch his tiny dick and kick him out a window. It’s a 7 story fall. I proceed and carefully pick out a fashionable attire since I am going out for some fine dining.

I put on a polo shirt, Clarks shoes and blue jeans.

Me and my homie roll out to the restaurant owned by a lame B-list TV chef. His food is good.

On the way there, I see a weesh nerd with low muscle mass and a mask.

I yell homophobic insults towards him and bully him. He flips me off timidly and runs away. We laugh.

Pull up to the spot.

Eat fine ass lamb fillets.

Smoke Cuban cigars.

Done and done. We major.

We leave at 1 AM and tip the waiter decently. He is happy.

Now it’s the AM, time to harass hot women online and ignore horny girls in the DM until they send me nudes. Can’t sleep. Still hungry.

Dean Martin time.

Got blocked twice but there’s an alluring Russian. Hm.

Foreign Digital Pussy

I hold a strong dislike for the majority of females in my country. I find them to be highly unpleasant and uneducated, with a sizeable ego and zero manners. Their aesthetic amount to feces. Nothing good.

In other words, they’re shallow fucking cunts who look like tanned balls. Most of them.

The “men” are even worse, don’t worry.

That’s why I always had a penchant to fantasize, fuck and sext exotic pussy from other continents. As broken as they might be, it’s better than home.

So much more reliable, submissive and pretty than the locals. The masculinity crisis of the west has made it easier for big trap cigar smoking studs to engage in LDR and secure foreign fuck toys for the future (present, if vacationing).

I love the fact that a chick with big tits on the other side of the world is playing with herself to my pictures and dreaming about fucking me. She might get to do it for real if I like her.

Literally had them call me a god.. small G. No blasphemy here. And I ain’t talking third world. I’m talking Canada and America and England.. which is foreign to me. Sigh.

Now there are decent dimes in the local economy, but it pales in comparison to the dollar. Ya dig?

Maybe if we had more artistic blue hair goths or BDSM loving Aryan blondes. A spicy brunette here and there.

It’s by no means me advocating to never touch a local, but if I do it makes me feel dead inside.

I’ll keep hustling though, ain’t no quitta bitch.

Wicked Instagram Tits

I have broken my writing hiatus to discuss an important topic. Tits. On Instagram. Of the kind that is attached to problematic girls you want to dig out.

You know the type of tits I am talking about. It’s not about the size of the milk transporter.. but the attitude. The “ohicantwaittobeexposeddaily somanymenwilljerktheircocktomeat2am” tits.

The “I hate my dad that never raised me right” tits.

The “I enjoy teasing and manipulating men more than I do getting actually fucked” tits.

Would be lovely if women could actually exist without whoring themselves online for attention and cum drops. So much for independent bad bitches.

There’s only three options when you encounter these tits.

  1. You try to ignore the tits, do your best to not be desperate and hopefully fuck some moral value into her once.
  2. Spam her with likes, orbit her, and have zero respect for yourself as you endlessly climax to her cleavage.
  3. Unfollow and ignore lol.

Option three is optimal but cmon.. a mans gotta eat. Or at least try.

There’s no real point or lesson to this other than bitches ain’t shit and in a perfect world we’d all be making bank and wearing Rolexes instead of chasing dumb e-hoes and being constantly erect.

She’s not trying to fuck or even have a nice convo. She’s a dopamine hunting pussydemon with a hollowed soul. Beware.

Take away the digital platforms and ability to get free drinks and they would die. Literally. Via hanging.

It’s not all bad though. They’re very entertaining. Always fun to mock. Maybe troll. If you smashed, even better. Just don’t wife.. don’t be a fag like John Legend.

This is the only type of content I could churn out right now. Feels shallow and cliché to discuss wymen but why not? It’s topical.

Men, avoid dead eyed attention seeking meatflaps. Find a girl that likes nature. But not TOO much nature.. because they just give head to hikers in the woods.

Go buy a cigar. I’m outtie.

Regrets

Regrets suck. I try my best to never live with any of them but I’d be lying if I said it’s truly the case.

We all have some regrets. Some people will regret eating that pizza that caused them to vomit all over their anime body pillow, some regret blowing the one shot they had with their crush, some regret never telling their family how much they love them while they’re still around to hear.

Like I said, we all have regrets. I think most people try to hard too ignore them. They bury their regrets deep and thus they never truly cope with it.

How do you deal with it?

You don’t, they will always be buried in your subconscious unless you start smoking copious amounts of DMT..

You just gotta suck it up, live your life to the best of your ability and keep moving.

Embrace the fact you fucked up and you suck and keep improving until you make up for that one failure that haunts you.

That’s Life © and you can’t deny it.

Sinple really! But not really.

There’s no other way.

Alright, peace out.

HAPPY MOTHERFUCKING NEW YEAR.. ugh. ❤

Groupie Love

Ah, groupies..

A staple part of the iconic rock n’ roll mythos.

What is it that compels young nubile women to leave it all and run off with degenerate guitar playing junkies who sound good on vinyl?

It’s interesting really. They say goodbye to school and hit the road with some larger than life jerkoff that’s drowning in a sea of meaningless pussy just to be another pretty face in the harem.

They spend all day giving fellatio to the gang and rambling about their hopes and dreams to a man who pretends he gives a fuck who just wants ass.

She is in love, the rocker is her entire world. And he.. well, his ego is in love. He likes her very much, but his ego.. his ego is infatuated.

He feels so good. This girl wants his babies, obeys his every word and is a grade A lay. She will cut her wrist if he says so, goddamn.

So much power over her. He loves her. Sort of. Does he though? He writes songs about her, she fuels his creativity, he loves life when she’s around.. but what happens when she nags.. or her insecurity becomes too toxic?

He cares for her, but how much longer can the show go on? I am not a rockstar. I can sure as hell relate though.

Just a little bit. A bit too much.

Good Morning

It’s a good day to be alive. It’s yet another step in our global path to Armageddon.

The sun is shining, birds are chirping, my head and testicles are equally in pain and both sport throbbing veins.

You wake up, down some painkillers and sext a barley legal e-girl.

She calls you daddy while her dad spents countless hours tearing up every night because she’s a fucking whore.

You eat some cottage, your gut becomes inflamed and you wanna throw up. You don’t but it hurts so you smoke a gas station cigar. The Cuban one is too pricey to waste right now.

The cheap tobacco clogs your lungs slowly but surly and the horrid taste distracts you from the never-ending pain of 2020.

You post seductive muscle pics to IG and troll some stuck up communist sluts with loose pussies. It’s very fun.

You bully your little brothers because you are bored due to government not letting you leave home because the plan is to kill the spirit of the already broken youth.

Maybe you watch Netflix while daydreaming about the Golden Days of the Mafia.

You go to bed. Can’t sleep.

Rinse and repeat.

Good morning. Fuck you.

We <3 Violence

“Sometimes, periodically I struggle with the possibility I could hurt somebody. That sometimes it’s orgasmic. What does it mean when fighting gets you erect, what does that mean?” -Mike Tyson

Why do us men crave and relish the experience of war? What is it about bloody fists and black eyes that secretly gives us a swift injection of joy? If we knew, we could never explain it due to the possibility of being looked at as maniacs. Do we even know?

Sure, some might trace it to our evolutionary needs. We survived and thrived as a species by kicking dinosaur ass and when we replicate the experience our tiny brain feels good knowing we live to fight another day and didn’t get eaten so we can carry on our genes and make babies. Yay?

I don’t think that’s it. Maybe that’s the late night beer talking. I mean, it is IT. But there’s more.

Maybe it’s sadism? Maybe all men are oddball freaks that have a weird hidden fetish for destruction?

Nah, joking. I don’t live in California and I ain’t gay.

Maybe it’s just a rebellious thing. Society wants us neutered and lame so we literally fight back by engaging in extreme acts of whoop ass to own the pozzed deep state that runs this soft gynocentric world.

I don’t fucking know. Chalk it up to hidden alien probe programming for all I care. All I know is every man needs to experience violence to feel fulfilled. Whether it’s simulated, friendly, murderous, video game driven.. pick your poison.

We are men. We love to fight.

This has been drunk writing with Red Beard. Fuck off.