Sex Is A Drug, Drugs Are My Sex

Some people get high off pharmaceutical chemicals, some people get a high off purchasing large amounts of Gucci bags and Calvin Klein underwear.. Me? I get high off of getting pussy.

My drug of choice is the vagina, I’m addicted to the labia.

Popping off inside the warm confines of the vagine is my opioid, my heroin. It helps me forget about all my pain and woes.

When the sugar walls clamp on my moderately thick male member it’s as if I just took a big hit of some bomb ass kush. It makes me feel alive. When she rides me with conviction, I feel divine. When I see her raven black hair, her mischievous smile, I find peace. When I take a whiff and the smell of her lust reches my lungs, I don’t wanna die. Goddamn, I don’t want the high to ever stop. Fuck.

But the problem with all drugs is eventually you get hooked. Like a narcotic Wall St. broker looking to get his next fix of the booger sugar, all I can think about is when will I get my next dose and how.

To quote King Push:
“24/7, 365, pussy stays on my mind”

You’re my drug. Pale or tanned. Blonde or brunette. Busty or flat. I just wanna mate. Let me get you drunk and let’s get lost in a sea full of pubis. Make me come alive (innuendo intended).

And if I can’t get it then cannabis and benzos are pretty tight too. If only intercourse helped me sleep or digest food better though.

What Might Have Been

I been playing the good ol’ “What If?™” game in my head recently. Yes, that game where you beat yourself up for past mistakes and wasted opportunities.

I am not one for regrets, but I sometimes can’t help but wonder if I missed out on something life changing. If you guessed earlier that this is gonna be about women.. you are correct, jerk.

What If?™ that beautiful woman you never properly had the sack to hit it off with was gonna lead you to the best next six months of your life?

What If?™ you were gonna finally find your wholesome monogamy worthy lady and you never scared her off by posting videos of yourself doing drugs and fucking hoes on your Instagram?

What If?™ the woman you sent your sausage pics to was actually really into you and you blew it because now she thinks you’re a perverted fuck?

What If?™ I could stop and enjoy life for a moment and not piss off every person I meet?

What If?™ I was just another boring normative kid? One that has zero personality, a mediocre girlfriend that doesn’t love him and friends who pretend to like him? Just another idiot living in the Matrix, plugged in and too delusional to realize how fucked up his life is?

What If?™

It’s 1:37 AM, probably not gonna be able to sleep and dream of perky blondes. As usual.

Fuck.

 

Californication

It seems like no matter where I go, I can’t escape this huge cloud of Hollywood bullshit that is chasing us all into oblivion. You know what I’m talking about.

That fake and shallow California image rich Hebrews and hipster schmucks like to sell us. The coolest place on earth. The wannabe moral compass of America that is ironically the most decadent place since Sodom and Gomorrah. You see it on TV as a kid, you hear about it in your music and travel aficionados just won’t shut the fuck up about how great it is.

I know they have legal weed, amazing sunsets, sexually loose women and fancy expensive Gyms.. but is the City of Angels really worth all the hype?

Seems like anyone who lives there for a decent chunk of time eventually grows disillusioned with the place. They get tired of the political chaos, the crime is too much for them to handle, the broads with fake tits get old and become too toxic for anyone looking to settle. Even Venice Beach is no longer any fun, it’s just another industry meme.

Yet even after understanding all that, I just can’t help but feel like I’m missing out on this weird little planet known as California (or Mexico Lite, your pick).

I want to experience the hypocrisy, the awesome cinematic view, the horrible heat, the nightlife, the blowjobs in the In-N-Out parking lot, the homeless people and even the gangbangers!

L.A. is my love and hate. I lust for it. But I also feel nauseated when I hear it calling out for me. It represents everything I yearn for yet utterly despise.

AND I HAVEN’T EVEN BEEN THERE YET!

West Hollywood brunettes, keep on waiting for me.

Fight!

Has there even been a greater thrill in the history of mankind than getting punched in the face? Fine, maybe depositing your load inside a vag for the first time, but the point still stands.

Fighting in my eyes equals and sometimes even transcends drug induced euphoria. And you all know how much I love that.

There’s something that just feels so right about being involved in physical confrontation. The blood, the scars. It’s like reconnecting with your primal ancestors. Win or lose, you stepped up to the plate and you did battle.

You feel like a goddamn MAN. The boost in endorphins and testosterone has you feeling like a demi-God, a sexual Tyrannosaurus and a professional killer all rolled up into one big masculine package. Cliché, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

I miss my days as an amateur MMA fighter. Hell, I miss my days fighting random kids in school. Everyone needs a modicum of violence in their life. Now I’m not saying you need to beat on strangers in the supermarket, but it would be beneficial to engage in some moderated form of combat.

It makes me sad that there people in this life that never experienced a fight. They’re missing out on one of the true joys of life.

It’s fun and it’s practical! You get to beat up on your homies for shits and giggles, you have an outlet for aggression, you improve your health and you will be prepared in case anyone ever tries to bump you off for some reason.

Stop sleeping on the wonders of fighting and go get punched in the face.

Make Hedonism Great Again

I for one am an avid fan of Hedonism, I think it gets a bad reputation. Hedonism is just like those thin Real Feel condoms. Risky, but satisfying.

Life is fucked up as it is in this crazy world, why shouldn’t we indulge ourselves in the pursuit of pleasure? Sure beats suffering.

People will tell ya it’s a waste of your life and a detriment to your health, that you will reach old age as a broken man and that you need to take responsibility and make something of yourself. Whatever that means.

Well, I don’t wanna reach old age. I don’t wanna be responsible, not to the extent where I throw away the potential of my life at least. People just want you to be idle, get enslaved by some asshole boss for minimum wage, marry a hag that had the time of her life getting creampied by strangers in college and slowly rot away with your spoiled bratty kids. That’s what it’s all about for them.

Growing old and settling down is greatly overrated. For some odd reason, everyone I know is eager to become an old man. They want the retirement plan, the nagging spoiled kids, the fat wife that used to be smoking hot and the erectile dysfunction medications..

What ever happened to partying until you’re 40 and dying peacefully after snorting coke off the firm ass of a 20 year old Brunette hardbody from LA? You know, the life God intended for us. Obviously.

Why are people so ready and willing to waste away their youth? That shit is something you gotta cling to and never let go, motherfucker. You only get one crack at this so get it right. Life is too short to work an office job and dance with fat chicks.

You should be going H.A.M. on the bitch known as life. You gotta storm life and pounce on its ass like a horny tiger looking for some tail. Dominate that shit. Experience everything you can before growing saggy man-tits and developing bladder disorders.

I want people to take risks. Do drugs, bang a ton of broads, make dirty money, travel, get into fights every week and develop brain damage, hang out with criminals.. the whole nine yards.

A little hedonism never hurt no one. I think the damage of living a boring life is worse than anything I just mentioned above.

I rather die in the prime of my life from chasing thrills and sticking needles in my ass than growing old to be a useless grey haired cunt, no offense to all grandpas out there.

Not be a generic Tumblr thot, but you really do only live once.

Do something crazy and have some fun for once you wankers. Let loose. End rant. Three cheers for degenerates.

 

The Benefits of Fucking Up

Messing shit up is never a pleasant experience. Whether it’s something minor like accidentally sending porn to your aunt or something more serious like destroying a great relationship and losing a dream job, mistakes ALWAYS suck.

But that’s a part of life. Always was, always will be. You gotta learn how to handle mistakes. Your stupid ass will inevitably make them.

Making mistakes is actually a good thing. Without error, there is no progress. That’s why I always bounce back quickly whenever I screw up (which happens a lot). I analyze whatever stupid shit I did and try to make sure I don’t ever do that again. Although, most of times my dumbass tends to repeat the same errors.. WHICH IS JUST FINE!

Eventually we will all learn our lessons. That’s the point. I’m actually pleased every time I screw the pooch because I gain more insights and as a result improve as a man. The shit we eat now will eventually become sweet creamy chocolate. Yum.

Don’t be afraid to make mistakes.

I ENCOURAGE YOU ALL TO FUCK UP UNTIL THE COWS COME HOME! APPROACH A HOTTIE AND GET REJECTED, TRY TO BENCH 500 LBS AND DROP THE BAR.. CRASH AND BURN, BABY! THAT’S HOW YOU GROW!

Guarantee something positive will come out of it because you will know better come next time. You better.

Disclaimer: Don’t anything TOO stupid on purpose, yeah? But put yourself out there. Life will reward ya.