Heartbreak Kid and The B.S. Of Lust

Recently, I have been evaluating some interactions I had with some beautiful ladies that have not gone my way. Some of these sultry vixens may even be reading this right now.. or maybe not, whose to say?

I came to some conclusions. I am gonna refer to various babes as a singular entity of jizz and lust. It dawned on me how much I hate it when this cute, luscious, buxom devilish female twirls my massive frame around her freshly painted fingernails, spinning me like a hamster and fucking with my head.

But apparently, I don’t hate it enough to stop engaging with her. I tell myself I don’t want to get involved then dream about slurping cola out of her vulva.

I think about rawdogging her till my shaft crumbles to dust every time she texts, giving me hope of a bite.

She probably thinks of fucking with me too, but pissing me off gets her wetter.

I get burned and take out my anger on the next girl that actually appreciates me. Allegedly. No more home-cooked pasta for me?

Continuing the cycle of toxic manipulation to build back my ego. Don’t want to get played and get made fun on Hoodville.

I wanna thrust at that one girl’s throat with the pelvic force of 1,000 suns until she goes into a coma but then also hug her in front of the shining voyeuristic moon that looms over our heads and build a home with her? Do I “love” her (whatever that means) or is she a sex fiend to pull out of my drawer? What’s the value? Where do we stand? No one knows. Just go with it. Treat her like the rest. But I do like her. I really like her. She’s sweet. But..

But like I said it’s not one girl, it’s so many that fit the bill. They all become one face in the end. So alike. Spooky really.

She’s just the most recent.

Behind every sexy scumbag is their equal in trashola that got them bent first. They probably experienced the same thing on the lady side of the spectrum. Everybody gets fucked then fucked over.

So reader, are you the jerk compensating for the pain or the current victim?

Happy Friday, protect your skin!

Did You Know There’s A New Year™ In Planet Earth®?

Happy belated New Year you delightful fucks. How are you all doing?

You motivated to succeed until February pulls up on yo ass like an undercover cop car? You heartbroken again due to beautiful belligerent bitches? You making a lot of money at the expense of your humanity?

Whatever it may be, I understand ya.

The New Year is always an exciting time for many.

It’s all glammer and it feels like you just escaped the slammer of Previous Year.

You’re a free man/woman/toad.

There’s no calendar days attached to trauma and depression! You can start FRESH! Although the lingering rectal sting sensation from previous life fuck ups remains forever, the optimism is plentiful.

This isn’t a depressing post. It’s a motivate-you-to-rawdog-every-year-until-you-die post.

New Year is just a psyop. Time is possibly not even a real thing. But humans are symbolic and the idea of new™ lets us cope and ignore our blatant PTSD from living in the lamest era of humanity.

So my point is this:

Let’s go get this fucking bread

Let’s continue to do silly shit

Let’s lift weights and not get heart attacks like certain people randomly do now

Let’s just have fun because we all will die soon enough

To all the homies that remained in my life trying to make it, big love.

To all my sexy weirdo ladies, padre loves you too and I know you’re just confused. It’s never personal.

2023 is here and we STILL won’t rest and FOREVER will not sleep.