women

Lana Del Rey Part 2

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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

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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!

Pause 4 Porno

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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.

Where Is Da Luv

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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)

Foreign Digital Pussy

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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.

Lana Del Rey

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The ultimate role model for your run-of-the-mill hoe masquerading as an intelligent bad bitch while living a double life as an ice cream demolishing SSRI abusing semen powered machine.

When Lana said her pussy tastes like Pepsi Cola ® it was a true paradigm shift. She hit a massive spike DDT on our collective generation.

The sheer bravery of this groundbreaking statement, good God.

With her sultry voice and imaginary daddy that sells her coke, nothing was the same. She is responsible for girls giving top notch head worldwide although she probably slurps penile tissue mildly nowadays because she’s already famous and doesn’t need to seduce agents.

I actually like LDR songs because I’m a melancholy man-whore (in theory).

Although in 2021, she needs to go on Keto.. fuck it, I’d still hit.

Why is it that pretty art whores use Lana as a roaring symbol of female excellence while their tight punani is getting invaded on the lowkey by bearded RW bodybuilders?

In the current landscape of sexual dynamics, there is nothing more relatable than a sad used up pretty girl with dead eyes and unfulfilled potential who allegedly lives her best life but yearns for more. Fame can’t replace all the dick that broke your heart and your shitty dad. That’s my perspective which is the only true way to look at it. Shut up and post a seductive selfie that will make me aroused and ruin my day.

She’s an infinitely more rich version of depressed 19 year old white bitches from the Burbs.

God bless Lana Del Rey. Even though she worships Satan and whatever.

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.

Groupie Love

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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.

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.

I Could Have Fucked Cher

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After an hiatus from “writing” and too much free time which resulted in excessive nut tugging, let’s tell the freshly squeezed tale of how my desire to climb up Cher’s skirt was foiled by two oddballs.

It was a warm-ish summer night when my friend and I decided to hit up the local pub armed with cigars and Zippo lighters for some good vibes and the potential of having our face washed with waxed cooch.

We sat down and lit up that Dominicano tobacco, looking extremely sexy and possibly menacing if you are a skinny twink passing by.

Suddenly, our waitress (?) arrived to provide service smelling the potential for tips and the masculine pheromones.

Instantly, I could tell I wanted to paint the walls of my house with her vaginal fluids. She was a fairly tall, mildly alternative looking chick with a cute face that desperately needed my wad over it.

I made random convo to break ice and bust balls (ovaries?), asked her name and introduced myself.

Her name was Cher. Like the singer but less cringey and probably better looking with a collar on.

I won’t bore with lame details of what was said, this isn’t a game site. I will say she seemed legit interested and not just tip whoring.

I sent her off to fetch me wine and then trouble came..

A mildly inebriated lad sitting near inquired about our cigars and tried to make convo. Seeing as I ain’t a cunt with ego, I indulged him and we chatted a bit.

He seemed harmless at first. Spoke Italian, former bartender. Odd looking but friendly. He drank about two liters of beer. He was with his Russian friend. A funny fat lad who screams instead of talking. Alright, they were entertaining. We let em join the table.

WHAT. A. FUCKING. MISTAKE.

What started as innocent cigar and travel talk turned into them yelling about politics and scaring off every women in sight. Including Cher. I went from baller mafioso to unwanted personality because I let myself be seen with those fuckers.

The Russian dude started ranting about blacks in front of the African workers and if it wasn’t for me he might have gotten stabbed.

Goddamnit. There I was talking to a beautiful goth-lite chick who produces techno that was probably up to swallow my kids in the bathroom and these fuckers scared her off.

They were so thrilled to be near us, I felt like a hassled celebrity. They even followed us to our car.

Was this how Sinatra had to deal with fans?

Anyway, I didn’t fuck Cher. I could have. Might go back there sometime soon and eat her asshole if possible. Hope this was good content.

Fuck off.