My roommate and I have a jungle titty song and dance, it’s short, simple and classy. We stick our chest out, move our tits in a circle and sing the “Jungle Titty” song. It’s amazing. Art really.
I don’t think I can keep one of my own secrets, I’m not good at it anymore. I’ll go to the grave with other people’s dark pasts and embarrassing moments but I always seem to tell my own. When I was younger and I did things I was ashamed of I would hold onto that shame and not tell a soul. But now I’m fine admitting that in middle school I used to smoke rolled up printer paper..with nothing in it….or that I was indeed the one who stole WD’s bag of multi flavored JellyBelly’s from his backpack, during recess in the 5th grade.[that son of a bitch didn’t want to share with me so I took matters into my own hands and just stole the kid’s shit. Wow. Where I learned that behavior I’ll have no idea]. As I’ve gotten older I feel liberated every time I spill my own beans. Maybe that’s the writer in me wanting to fuel my very own material fire. So, that being said, I have a confession. A confession I failed to mention to my sister when we play our weekly confession game. Sorry sister. Something I’m not proud of but we’re only humans right? Disgusting, maybe a bit tipsy, horny, no good, rotten humans….the other week the exbf came over to get some of his belongings….and I kind of, sort of on accident sent him a
'come in through my bedroom door if you want to bang and that's all it's going to be' text.
This is a guy I used to be in love with, someone I am comfortable with and someone who I knew would get the job done. I thought being up front with him would make me feel better about the whole thing but I still feel like I used him. I giggled a bit and ‘shhhhed’ when he asked me how I’ve been as I ripped off his pants. He wanted to catch up and tell me about his new jacket. Which I wasn’t too found of. I never liked his style much. This wasn’t a ‘what have you been up to’ moment. My need didn’t get met and I feel lousy about it to this day. Was it worth it?
Of course not.
Don’t hate. I tried it. I went down that road and discovered it’s not going to work. Life is trial by error and I have a lot more errors to make.
When do you think you grow up? When you start paying bills? Or making your own meals, doing your own laundry, getting a hair cut by yourself or scheduling a doctor’s appointment? Maybe it’s receiving more responsibilities at work, cleaning house or playing house. I don’t feel grown up yet. I’m an adult…ish. I do all those things but my bed is not made, my bong needs cleaning, my shoes and laundry get piled in my room. I’m not In a hurry to get anywhere or to get older; I’m on a quest for happiness and life is just the game played.
I’m doing everything I can to try and make ole Decrepit happy, I have a feeling she will die this winter. She is skin and bones and only seems to want to eat wet food. Before I put a space heater in the laundryroom for her, I would warm her blankets in the dryer every morning. She loved that but appears to enjoy her very own heater more. I’m just trying to make Lulu comfortable before she passes, if she doesn’t die this winter I will be amazed and a bit proud. I’ll keep you posted.
I’ve taken to giving myself pep talks before I get out of bed in the morning. Something along the lines of;
“Today is going to be a good day. You’re not going to let yesterday dictate today. You can do this.”
Not that I have been depressed lately and can’t get out of bed but I have felt lonely. I could be in a room full of people or at a crowded happy hour table and I’ll still feel a bit lonely. Maybe waking up alone has finally got to me. I miss that in a relationship, waking up next to someone. I’m not dissatisfied with my friends or the people I know, because honestly, those people are my rocks. I’m just ready to constantly and consistently hook up with someone….but aren’t we all.
I made out with a beautiful black man last week and now that’s alllllllll I want. He gave me the fever, and I’ve got it bad. I was wasted and gave him my watch. Because he liked it. I gave that mother fucker my watch. I have a back up watch, so it’s all good. But when I reflect on the situation, I begin to feel sorry for myself. I’m such a giver. Give watch. Give head. Provide breakfast in the morning. Ugh. I’ll work on it.
Am I so hungry right now, I will have to despretly heat myself up a LeanPocket? Yes.
And I should put on a little music too, in attempts to drown out the sound of my roommate’s ass getting slapped from within her room….
I would say a very small victory tonight would be that I made it from the kitchen to my room without awkwardly running into the guy slapping my roommates ass in her room. And that I can slightly tell that the HotPocket company has been using better ingredients to ensure better quality.
Have you ever taken your Halloween costume so seriously you become your costume’s personality for the evening? Ttthhaattt kind of happened to me when I was dressed up as a prostitute on the last night of October. Not a big deal. This was with a friend of mine and he didn’t actually give me the money but it was fun to pretend. Plus one of my girlfriends awarded me with the “most enthusiastic about their costume” award the next day!
The writer is out for now. He falls under my radar too often and doesn’t preform cunnilingus. DEAL BREAKER.
Crying at bars and falling through walls. That’s me.
I got the fever.
Sitting remembering a high, actually feeling the old sensation spread throughout my body. My gut, limbs, fingers and toes tingle until the flash back balls up in my chest to dissolve into memories. I’m not a stranger to this feeling although it doesn’t come often, I welcome it when it does. It’s fleeting but sensational.
A guy we know lets homeless people sleep on his porch armchair some nights. He has a homeless friend named Henry that hangs out a bit, they drink whisky and 40s over bullshit and long talks. Henry will paint rooms, mow lawns, and stain wood for a little bit of spending money so the guy hired him to help him with a project. At the end of Henry’s “shift” he got paid $20 and not too long after getting paid and taking off, Henry comes back to the armchair on the porch with a prostitute. A real live prostitute and says
“Hey guy, you want to get your dick sucked?”
The guy with the big heart looks at both of them and responses with
“No dude. Are you fucking kidding me!?”
Seems as if Henry knows exactly what to spend his money on.
The writer is back. As in; back into my life. What is it with me thinking someone has left my life for good, then low and behold, their back. I’ll be living my life, not thinking about them when I’m hit with a random text
I find him handsome even behind those stupid black hipster frames. There is something about his skin I like and the way he kisses me. He is a homebody, big dork and a bit awkward. If there is anything I’m good at it, its ignoring the awkwardness in people.
Faces from my recent past keep trying to weasel their way back into my life; the married guy, RawDog, StageFIve, the friend I wanted to fuck, ex bf, schizo, ToungeRing & WorkOut and now the writer. Just when I think I’ll never heard from these people again, and I’m okay with it, they come creeping back. I’m always and forever done knowing most of them because they’re either mistakes, experiments, or failed friendships but I guess their not done with me. Ugh. I’m enthusiastically allowing the writer back in however and hoping for the best. Saying farewell to the cast of past characters. And perhaps no more OKCing or POFing…
Hahahahaha, yeah right.
Single life has been interesting; waking up drunk and SnapChatting things I know I shouldn’t. A 9:00am drunken SnapChat? I’m really keeping it classy on Sunday mornings, let me tell ya.
I remember when he walked up I thought
“Holy moly, this guy looks like Nev from CatFish. Hot hot hot!”
Then later I found out that I kissed him, in the bar, in front of everyone. Ballsy. I feel indifferent about it however; I’m proud I kissed the hottie but not remembering makes me feel disgusted a bit. When I dont have to drive I think I get over excited and take maybe one too many celebratory shots. I’ll work on it.
Some advice? Don’t tell your guy friends you want to fuck them and forget the conversation later.
The threesome happened.
I had sex with two people, a man and a woman, at the same time.
Blows my mind.
I used to think that I was too jelouse of a person to share a lover, but in this situation, they were sharing me. Everyone’s bodies seemed prepped, prepared, and polished…except he could have lost a few pounds, damn. He is probably the ugliest man I have seen naked. (Lets call them ToungeRing and WorkOut)
I was a bit tipsy/well on my way to be wasted from my downtown trip earlier that night so ToungeRing picked me up. We were chatty Cathys in the car, she even mentioned that her and WorkOut are a couple now. When we met for bar trivia three weeks ago they weren’t together, just friends who fuck. Now that they are bf gf I asked her if she still wanted to go through with me fucking her and now her boyfriend. She was fine with it. When we got to her place WorkOut was smoking a pipe of tobacco outside, we joined him to smoke, drink, and anticipate the night.
It started out with a drunk game of truth or dare, I could see where this was going so just to be a jerk I picked ‘truth’ a few times. They asked me about my fantasies. When I finally did pick ‘dare’ things heated up. Clothes came off (ripped off actually, fucking guy ripped my dress), hands, tounges and mouths explored bodies. Candle light exposed our naked flesh that was twisted and smashed together. It was an experienced shared between three people that I don’t regret and I won’t forget. Will I do it again? Perhaps. With them? Maybe not.
Sexuality it fluid, explore within your boundaries. I’ll do my best not to judge your life and I hope you would pay me the same respect in mine. As long as we’re all happy, healthy individuals living & enjoying life together. I appreciate everyone of you who read and keep up with my blog. My words. My brutally honest sexcapadeses. I’m honored really. So thank you!
The three way has yet to take place, entirely due to the fact that I’m currently bleeding from my vagina. That will put a damper on sex with strangers. I’m preparing for war; I’ve got to buy a new bra this week, shave my legs, debilitate my fire crotch, tan, lift some weights (to tone my flabby arms), use my feminine wash and probably watch some threesome porn. I’m nervous excited. The chick in this group love has a tounge ring. A big one. She SnapChatted it to me. Oohmigod! When I think about what’s going to go down between the sheets I secret smile and blush. This is my idea of single life and I’m living it and I find myself not ashamed to share my story. I’m checking two things off my bucket list; having a threesome & being with someone with a tounge ring. I should probably just jump up after the sex is had, shout
And just leave.
They mean mug in Memphis; just relentlessly starring at me, watching me stare back, and not giving a damn. While some uncultured motherfucker eyed me down I turned to a friend for support, loudly stating and in her direction.
“They mean mug in Memphis!”
My ‘friend’ offered little support. “We’ll- look at you.”
My time in Tennessee was that of a dream, a memory I will cherish until the end of time. All of the people I love the most will always and forever bring up the time we had there with one another and the love we saw sealed. We will grow old, some of us will start families and others will not, but we will backyard sit and remember our years together. Plus, we weeded out the psychos and prostitutes…..
::::thought after a lunch break::::
“Maybe if I put lipgloss on, they won’t notice how high I am…”
After becoming slightly infatuated with the writer I met from OKC I shortly discovered he is not for me. Moving on to bigger and better things? Uhhhhh, unfortunately not. I met another guy from the ole website…he has a familier look about him, kind of like people with Down’s syndrome sharring the same features. After spending several hours with him (let’s call him StageFiveClinger), I realized this guy has a hearing loss. I recognize the behavior of someone with a hearing loss, I’m very familiar with the mannerisms. Before I could ask him about it StageFIve ended up telling me that he was a month premature, has a 50% hearing loss, his jaw plate won’t stop growing, causing him to get surgery often and I’m prrrrreeetttyyyy sure he has a slight hump on his back. Regardless I found myself a bit attracted to him and a six pack later I found myself not giving two fucks about it.
I hooked up with StageFiveClinger. My vageen must have hypnotized him because homeboy wanted to date me after two days.
Do I regret hooking up with him? Fuck no. This guy eats pussy like a king. And after offering him greens to the bowl I told him that too. Men need to be rewarded for being so enthuastic about experiencing you all over their face. And ladies if your man doesn’t eat you until you explode, you’re wasting your time. Because when is he going to start? Not now. Not never.
I’ve been approached by a couple about a threesome. We have group texted and SnapChated all week. They’re attractive and I feel comfortable so far. After I take a shower, a nap, and have a few drinks, I will be meeting them tonight for bar trivia. We’re not having sex tonight, this is just a meet and greet. Being single is allowing me to live. I’ll keep you posted on the group sex.
Yo yo yo your little backpack just knocked over three beers.
Who is cool now!?