Daddy

Thirst Diaries

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It was another gloomy fucking morning where I accidentally (seriously, I promise) found your old voice recordings. With that innocent sexy voice of yours that would cause a celibate and chaste monk to spunk instantly.

And I listened and I laughed and maybe even began redirecting blood flow to my nether region unintentionally.

And I smiled.

Thinking about how we could have been such an absolutely fucking dynamite couple.

We could have had a lovely garden together..

Some cute dogs!

A shared metal playlist.

And daily no holds barred fuckfests that involve me giving you multiple edged orgasms and putting you in a choker customized to my liking.

Babygirl you really missed out..

If I could bottle up my lust for you I’d sell it as a high end aphrodisiac on premium market auctions like the Wu-Tang did.

You annoying twat, shame.

Stop showing your delicious tits on IG too.

Don’t stop actually.

I fucking miss you so bad.

…
..
.

SIKEEEEE!

Bitch, tomorrow is a new day.

I don’t love these hoes, no matter how cute!

Skrrt!

DOOT DOOOOT DOOT!

Kitten Ballad

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As heavy smoking wrecks havoc on my lungs, I reminisce on the potential lovers I pissed off and pissed on before I gave them the chance to wrap their pretty pink lips around my somewhat thick drum stick.

For I am God’s gift to women, the man who can do no wrong while spiraling out of control in a whirlwind of chaos and tits.

While I legitimately enjoy the prospect of no holds barred sex with the whores of Instagram, my biggest turn on is a nice and wholesome brunette who cooks me breakfast and loves me. Shocking isn’t it? I am aware.

I’m so bloody young and I’m already yearning for love. Fucking disgraceful. Where did it go wrong? Too much TV.

My biological imperative guides me to ejaculate and evacuate but even if I do that, why can’t I have both worlds?

When will the Lord give me a sexually depraved jezabel with a hint of elegance who will die for me and is mentally ill but also a good partner lacking toxic traits? Yeah, I know. Stupid.

A man can dream. Even if he does not sleep. Ever.

Yes, Daddy

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What is it about the latest societal trend of barley fertile women calling bearded men daddy?

I asked myself this question quite often lately. I’d be a liar if I said I don’t get a mammoth sized erection when I hear her utter those words though. But still, I just can’t quite grasp it.

You can make the argument that it’s a good representation of how all those rainbow haired ladies lacked a strong father figure and are compensating, you can chalk it up to submission play and kink. Honestly? I think most women just follow the linguistic degenerate trends in order to help better service our naughty parts.

But what does a “daddy” even do?

Well, what does a father do?

-Sets boundaries

-Educates and gives life lessons

-Punishes you when you mess up so you do better

-Protects you even when you’re a little shit

Ah shit, add aggressively fucks and bruises your esophagus and that’s a daddy.

In my experience anyway? Others will concur.

I guess in this decaying age of postmodern “men and women”, a daddy is necessary.

It’s hard work, but when she’s on her knees and begging to swallow your genetic load with a genuine smile and a glitter in her slutty eyes.. it’s worth it.

Fuck it all if that ain’t goddamn romantic to you.

Governments fall, people die, plants rot.. but memories of her spunk soaked face after you skullfucked her to tears? That’s eternal.

I need a shower. Make love, not oil wars.

Always wrap the willy.