Thursday, January 30, 2014

Boy Trouble w/ a Capital T, and that Rhymes w/ Jackass

Boys.  Can't fuck 'em, can't murder them.  Okay, actually you can do both, and believe me, they both can feel really good if done right, and really bad if done wrong.  Did I get up on the wrong side of the bed today?  Did someone piss in my Raisin Bran?  Did I just dump and/or get dumped by a boy jackass?  Maybe all of the above - or at least two out of three.  Anyhoo, I set up this damn blog to write about things in my head, and I go an entire month without writing.  WTF!??  So here I am.  Back from the woods.  Back from the martini bar.  Back from the dive down the street.  Back to bring sexy back.

Anyway, as I was saying, boys are trou-u-u-uble.  Now don't get me wrong, though I do occasionally pitch for the other team, if you get my drift, and even though that is fun as all hell, there is nothing like a good solid cock rummaging around in your wet basement.  Wow, was that blunt enough?  Fuck it, who cares.  But still, wet basement or not, most guys are fucking jackasses. I'm a tattooed-baby, drunk-sailor-talking, sometimes hard-drinking, film noir-loving, curvy-but-slender, motorcycle mama kinda girl, and if the boys don't like that, well fuck 'um.  Seriously though, many boys do like that...at first.  And many boys like the way my basement feels, and moves, and what-not...at first.  Then, at some point in the relationship, these boys become assholes, or at least start showing the assholeness that is already in them.  Bitter?  No, not me.  Wink wink.

Sure, there are a handful of good guys.  Granted, they are usually either gay or just friend material.  Though I've been known to fuck them on occasion as well.  What a whore, huh?  Yeah, well, maybe sometimes.  But still, boys suck.  But still, I can't wait to have another one inside that wet basement of mine.  Yep, I might just be a whore after all.  But a whore with standards. That's enough for now.  Maybe I'll write something up again, before another month goes by.

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