Oh, no. Not again.

Whoop! Whoop! I’ve definitely got some shit to talk about today! Let’s start with one of my favorites. How ’bout a lil’ Truth In Advertising? I believe we’ve discussed this one before, but it is obviously time to drop this monkey off right fuckin here.

Look, I’m certainly not talking about every EMBELLISHED fact. Look. If you say your hair is wavy, but, in all reality, it’s just plain kinky, you’re still good. Not that kinda shit.

If you suggest, harmlessly, in your ad that you’re a little curvy, when, the truth is, some might call you fat… Well, we are DEFINITELY NOT talkin ’bout THAT shit! We all know that women are never going to be 100% honest when trying to attract the oposite sex. Oh. We didn’t ALL know that??? Well, WE DO NOW!!

Some of these advertisements, though… I mean, you got to be kidding me. Half of these girls can’t even spell dictionary. And, since when would an escort have an ad that required using one??

I know. Like usual, you think I’m just being a bitch. Again. And… I am. I am being a bitch. I’m not sayin that I’m being judgemental. Well, I guess I’m kind of judging, a little bit.

If I was ever taught anything by my mother… If any lessons were ever learned from the one we knew as Mama… It was to wear clean underwear. I cannot begin to count the number of times that I’ve heard these very words: “Don’t forget to put your clean panties on, just in case you get in an accident.”

Just what was that woman talkin about? If someone at the hospital is close enough to even see my panties, then they’re most likely in the process of cuttin them bitches off. And, if I am in the need of medical attention in my crotch area… Sir! You are focused on the wrong damn thing! Focus!

What they should have told my mother, was, “please go put your GOOD panties on. Go take them granny panties off and throw them to the wind. When they catch air and begin to astonish all passerby with their natural kite-like ability, you can sneak in your seven chuckles. It’s obvious that my mother was NOT raised on bikini panties. (Boy, I had a rough childhood.)

So, here’s the truth. If your doctor is, in any way, offended by the type of underwear you’re wearing under there, you should give that mother fucker a nice, big, wet one on your way to see Saint Peter.

My entire life, if I went anywhere, I found myself plagued with worry over the material lying just underneath my jeans. I bet NOONE worried about my panties as much as I used to. I’d feel so self-conscious everytime I was out in public in my elderly underpants. They knew. Somehow, THEY ALL KNEW! Do they still suspect??

LOL. I don’t even own a pair granny panties. (That’s a lie. I just lied. EVERY GIRL owns, at least, two pairs of grandma drawers.) Truth is, you shouldn’t be worrying yourself over my panties, either. That is, unless you’re tryin to get in them. That’s a whole other story.

What if? Just, what if… I advertise to you that my panties were made of silk. You know, that glisteny stuff that slides between your fingers like a waterfall of melted, yet, cool chocolate. And, let’s say, you get to my house, and I’m not wearing those silky drawers for you. Instead, I’ve got on a filthy pair of granny panties.

Do you feel me now? So, what’s up with these girls lying in their ads? Major, MAJOR lies, here, people.

I tell you what. If it doesn’t apply to you, just don’t fuckin put it in your ads at all. JUST DON’T FUCKIN BRING IT UP.

But to cum right out and state… Oh. I don’t know. Something like, just for an example, you say, “Drug free.” I would go on to assume, from these words that you typed yourself, that you don’t take drugs into your body at all. Not that you quit for 5 minutes just to post this ad.

Lots of girls out there do drugs. And, way more than a lot of of them are escorts. Now, they are certainly just as welcome to this job as I. Shit. I smoke pot daily! The only time I talk about it… Is when I need more pot. But it’s NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

Hey, if you can handle your shit, by all means, do as much of that shit as you fuckin want. As long as it doesn’t negatively affect my life, then, we are all good. It’s when your shit starts fuckin up my shit, that I start givin a fuck.

Why state it at all?? If you can’t suck dick like a Hoover, fuckin, DON’T SAY IT. Don’t even write it down.

On the flipside. If your drug use is so out of control that, even you, are unable to explain the rapid weight loss evident through your daily photog sessions… Well, then, maybe you do have a LITTLE PROBLEM.

In no way, shape, or form are you, then, allowed to make bold DRUG-FREE statements all out there in public and shit. You trying to get somebody to start investigating?? Look, it says far more about you and your character, that you even had the nerve to bring it up at all, than I could ever say.

Still, I’d fuck her. Given the chance. I’d make her EAT THIS DICK! LOL. Y’all okay? Dude. It’s a strap on. It’s not a real dick. I don’t have a real dick. I really don’t have a real dick. No questions disguised as comments asking about my real dick, people.

That’s what we SHOULD be talking about. Real dick. I know someone who’s been a total dick lately. What an asshole. But, I’m certainly not tryin to spoil our good time. So, enough ’bout the asshole.

Speaking of that real dick, again. I got me some really good dick yesterday. Actually, I gave him some really good dick yesterday. I DO NOT HAVE A DICK!

A really close friend of mine came by to visit. He is a very dear friend to me, and being that, we have talked about, just about, everything. As far as freaks go… Well, we go together just fine.

The chemistry between us is so fuckin good. It absolutely consumes us, both, everytime we touch. Shit. I was about 15 feet away from him yesterday, when I started getting super excited and my skin started to crawl. So, looks like touch is not really necessarily necessary.

It was a special occasion, definitely, because, yesterday, he let ME FUCK HIM with my own fuckin dick. You heard me. I have a dick! When I’m wearing my strap-on, I DEFINITELY HAVE A DICK!!

Being that it was our first time, I took it easy on him. I don’t know ALL of his limitations, just yet. I was just, kind of, feeling him out. LOL. I didn’t mean for that to sound so perfectly true.

No. I just wanted to ride him. And, I did. It was wonderful. I feel like a million bucks. Best ride of my life.

Before I go, I gotta tell ya’ll. Last night, I was sewing together a new pair of shorts. For the very first time, I made them from a pattern I’d created, myself. They turned out… Eh. But, the process was not to be missed.

There I am, sitting cross-legged in my office chair. I’m, half, working on the shorts, and, half, staring at my phone’s tiny screen, watching different YouTube videos on how to make your own patterns.

After awhile, it sorta got away from me. The next thing I know, I’m staring at a string of pre-adolescent teenage girls. Each, with there own favorite outfits. All of these ensembles were individual masterpieces of some of the sluttiest outfits I’ve ever worn. I meant, seen. The sluttiest outfits I’ve ever seen.

There they are, little girls, sewing crotches, and shit. Hey. It was cute. Cute and stupid. Oh, you know what I mean.

I’m thinkin, do they give everybody a fuckin channel, these days?? I mean, I guess, EVEN I have a website. Who’d ever think that they would give me a website?? SHIT! I HAVE TWO WEBSITES. Holy fuck. Who let me go and do that??

Oh my goodness, kids have their own channels, now. Oh, they’re all gone. Those good ole days, when children respected their elders. ALL GONE! What is this world cummin’ to?

And… What the hell will that bitch say next??


8 Replies to “Oh, no. Not again.”

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