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!

Haterade In The Modern Age

Something that really gets on my ass and ruins my vibe heavy is when low vibrational soy consuming canola pushing fuckwads diss up and coming artists/athletes/scammers who are trying to chase a goal and bag up.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to become a role model for the misguided with hella cash?

I mean, it’s not me… I am broke. Allegedly. That being said.. uh..

I still have sympathy for anyone slaving away at their craft.

The guy that doxxes naked hoes and stacks e-com money spent years as a pencil pushing faggy wagie before he got slop and commissions.

The painter that spammed your feed with naked artsy portraits had to break his fingers first drawing Tanya.

That drug addicted musician got his ass tickled by Luciferian old men to publish your fav albums.

Fuck you.

You should be inspired by the creative idiots and Adderall-fueled mega hustlers because unlike you we do something.

Go buy your shitty tickets to Rome or Dubai so you can play it lit for one week you bitch.

Fucking jabroni.

Cool people who are honest with good vibes and a work ethic deserve the flex.

Bad bitches should honestly automatically give em the gap and dudes should pay whatever they ask.

Most of the population is trash and jello.

HATER.

Haters are spiritually castrated. No balls, no drive. You hate someone? Okay, do his gimmick better. Oh yeah you can’t huh? Suck a throbbing pulsating dick.

Shoutout to all the hustlers.

Although sometimes you guys suck and use very wack marketing, I don’t mind though.

It’s easy to hate behind the sofa with chips like those wannabe quarterbacks, talking about “we lost the game”.. “we”?

Dickhead.

I’m no special authority on this, I don’t have haters or massive fame. Just needles and a cute face. But it’s my site and I tell you all the correct way to think.

I will now await the DMs from the babes now.

I had to remind you all I have valuable opinions that are not about Da Fuckin’.

Fuckery, Discontent, Gratitude

Well, it’s that time again

Life finally gave me enough shitty stimuli for me to write again

Life is swell

Money is slowly stacked

I got new window shades

I make roastbeef dishes that are absolutely delightful

All the stuff that makes up for my inability to take decent chunks of shit without burning up like a scorched Afghan corpse

Since everything is on the up, I’ve been thinking.. what’s the next move? What would make me happier?

I could juice up to 220 lbs maybe?

Get a new place?

Become a G Manifesto bootleg copy with suit swoops?

I don’t fucking know, I just don’t want to be content that much I’m certain

We men are never truly satisfied, when we’re satisfied we lose our flame, our mojo, OUR BALLS

Even when God sends morally questionable hot adult teens into my life which I always ask for.. I get excited and then it’s.. just another slice of life to handle…

Business plays and parlor tricks, yada yada.. routine bullshit

I say I wanna challenge myself in the career field, I find hardass clientele that busts balls.. I get it as ordered.. And it’s like.. a nuisance.. not even a trouble.. just something you wanna move past on a checklist

What if getting my custom-made Italian suit- wandering the high-end district-Met Gala- Egyptian silk sheet threesome fantasies will disappoint just as much?

Does anything material and physical in this life besides mortal combat ever make you whole?

Besides the worship of God, everything is futile

I feel like King Solomon

Everything is so dull

The medicine to such nihilism boils down to:

  1. Keep good company
  2. Meet interesting people, find muse and inspiration in your fans and critics alike
  3. Kiss beautiful women
  4. Thank God
  5. Thank GOD

Just keep the gratitude train rolling

Because somewhere is a one-nutted motherfucker that is praying nightly to have your life as is even if it’s subjectively SHIT

I will keep wearing decent to extravagant clothing, I will keep annoying hot girls that have world-class ass (hello if you’re reading this you sexy bitch ❤️), I will continue to maintain the Stones are better than the shitty Beatles, I will not eat bugs, I will stay hot and manifest good vibes, I WILL GET A GOOD NIGHT’S REST!

Hopefully, I will continue to have more subjects to write about soon and a nice sloppy blowjob to accompany the typing

The new WordPress editor is cancer

Xoxo,
Restless Stud

Lana Del Rey Part 2

He was a troubled rebellious lad with a bad reputation and a way with words who is probably good at tying ropes, she was a run down borderline suicidal slice of potential heaven with the perfect lips for the playing on the skin flute. She was spoiled. He spoils. They fuck. She’s happy for the five minutes they got together. He’s a liar who means well. They will eventually explode into madness together. Match made in heaven.

That is the basic synopsis for almost every Lana Del Rey Mysterio song minus cocaine and without mentioning the daddy kink or Old Hollywood fetish. Kind of.

Which makes me raise the following question like Lana’s voice raises my weiner.. why are we (men) attracted to the things we know are ultimately bad for us?

I talk to girls that always bitch about their love for the toxic that ends up hurting them yet they keep going at it over and over.

But what about the guys that indulge these bitches and get their heart ruined from excessive fucking and bad breakups?

I hope those girls don’t read this.. (I hope they do because they can’t do shit about me using them as an idea xoxo)

Anyway, men have a lust for the wicked just like the chicas do. We like thinking we can take the crazy broad and change her and bring order into her world and be the big sexy hero of her life. Fucking superhero fantasy.

It’s like all those guys Lana dated before she started eating at Burger King. All allegedly cool and tough and dangerous until she realized deep down they were sweet and the illusion was killed. Doot doot dooot.

Almost as if she realized they were trying to do her good and that inner whore devil decision making side said cut it out you fuck. Can’t get that redemption arc yet.

That’s how you get a song like In My Feelings where Lana cries while masturbating and calls her ex lover a loser.

Is the poor boy really a loser? Maybe a retard, sure. Did he really think he can taste the nectar of the Pepsi Pussy and leave unharmed by drama?

Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like Lana because she knows better but can’t do better. Fucked over by her own nature. Sad, sad, sad.

Deep down she loves the drama. And we love drama. No men is complete without being in love with a crazy cunt. It’s what makes us REAL MEN. A badge of honor. And a girl can’t live without the drama. You know this. Excitement beats boredom. And a Lana type chick is the perfect partner for a tango in a Hell of this making.

The Lanas of the world are like the mythical sirens. So beautiful yet deadly. You wanna listen, touch, kiss at the expense of your life and sanity.

Is it worth it?

Probably.

If I make “her” cry, I wanna use her tears as lube and hold her close. And then lie and be a fake and act Macho after falling in love so she never realizes that power she has over me. Then order sushi and read poetry or shoot rifles. And then fuck each other silly again. Me in my black suit. Her with the necklace and heels. Mm.

Hey man, God bless Lana Del Rey. Making good music, bringing weird girls into my life.

The Priestess of the Sad Girls. Queen of Coney Island. Motivator of Dirty Old Men.

Such grace. Such cinematic quality to each track. Art that will inspire even a monk to stimulation.

It takes a smart man to recognize her genius. She embodies the feminine spectrum to perfection.

I love her and God knows how much I like her fans.

By like her fans I mean I wanna impregnate those ladies after every conversation we end up having.

Is there a point to this?

This isn’t really about Lana Del Rey but it sure fits right?

Few© understand.

Thirst Diaries

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!

Pause 4 Porno

The following is open for interpretation:

Babygirl and I having a good time together in my penthouse.

Drinking wine under the moonlight. I’m thinking about sodomizing her while I pretend to be a gentleman.

You spill your darkest secrets to me and we share many laughs together. Aren’t we perfect, girl? We barely know each other, girl!

You’re intoxicated and in desperate need to feel something, anything..

I’m an anti-social angry man that is looking to use you like a piece of meat for my own glorification.

I go to get you another drink and I see you bending over in dem tight pants. Mmm. Second thought..

I come to you from behind and press my hard cock against your ass and pull your hair and turn you towards me.. eyes full of excitement. You haven’t been fed huh?

I aggressively stick a hand into your pants and feel wetness in your pink panties.

“Bullseye..”

I immediately take off your pants and turn you towards the porch of the balcony..

You tell me it’s too early for all that but the pussy says otherwise.. you bullshitting big time. You been waiting for this. Physical manifestation of your daddy issues. YES.

I rip your bottoms off and enter the pussy viciously..

You feel a shock at the back of your spine because my cock slid up there so swiftly and powerfully.. and now it’s throbbing inside your guts. Oh me so nasty.

You feel tremors with each stroke and you kindly ask me to stop with the forceful stuff.

I refuse and fuck you so much harder you start to stutter and shout. Music that rivals Mozart. Bliss.

The neighbors are starting to hear you on the verge of double orgasms and I do not care I.. just. have to. tear. you. up..

I whisper dirty things in your ear and you can not even respond.

Fuck you so wet.

I take my monstrous cock out of the pussy and bring you down to your knees
“Are you ready for an award?”

You smile and say yes Daddy
SPUNK splatters all over her slutty make up and she swallows it all up.

Depraved little whore. Disgusting. I love it. My ego is pleased. She is fulfilled for a week or so before she finds another stranger to do that to her.

Somewhere her parents cry.

Vicious cycle of life continues.

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

Where Is Da Luv

Why do we place guidelines and rules on love?

Whatever happened to just going with the flow?

Baby, fuck your friends and what the group text say

Fuck society and television cuz it’s just you and me and I’m not buying you a fancy watch or a vacation ticket

I just want to break your back on the sofa, whisper lies into your ear and love you hard without ever saying I love you

Don’t play games, just do your stupid hysteria and ask me if I’m cheating every two weeks so I can make jokes and DM girls on the side but fuck it.. you love me anyway right? Bring that fucking ass over here and let me play with your hair

You don’t know how much I like our shit

We’re so fucking toxic, let’s burn the continent

It’s fun till it ain’t

We both leave

You fuck some nerds and I keep on being a scumbag and then I die by the hands of government or drugs

Miss ya (never)

(sometimes)

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.