That Puerto Rican girl Cynthia. Perfect tits perfect ass near perfect face. I don’t remember if she had a perfect pussy but I remember after I came too fast the first time she got me hard again in five minutes by sucking me off and doing some weird trick with my balls. Kind of reaching through my sack and fiddling with something the way you would reattach a hose on a car engine and I got stiff like a reflex. The first time was for me, telling her to go slow, go slow, then blasting in her in two minutes when she was on top. Second time was for her, doggy style shoving her face in the pillow so she couldn’t breath and then letting her up and yanking a fistful of ponytail back, pulling her ass back into me, choking her, pounding her like a jackrabbit. Not my thing but it got her off. She’d been to Japan, she said. It’s so safe people sleep on the street. All their weird sex stuff is because there’s no connection between people sexually. It’s about the individual’s fantasy. E.g. you wrap me in saran wrap and tickle under my nose with fifteen year old girls sweaty panties while I shit myself. Really interesting stuff, she said. Why didn’t I call her– she was pretty smart too, and had her shit together. It was because she wouldn’t kiss me at first. She’d only kiss when she got really hot. Before that she would just nibble on your lip a little and then pull her head back and laugh. It takes all kinds.
On Saturday we handed out MISSING flyers for Nikol’s son who ran away. Hundred and six degrees in the valley; heat-angry people think you’re trying to sell them something when you walk up and say excuse me. I’m a bad person. An old woman stiffarmed me and said “sorry.” I yelled after her: you’ll die alone, you leathery old cunt. Not interested, said a fat bald man. Like no one will ever be interested in you, you fat disgusting bald sack of shit. I’m in the right here, I reasoned. I’m trying to find a lost child for Christ’s sake. No one will take a swing at me because I’m tall and I lift weights a lot. Continue reading
Sex inventory. Last part of your AA 4th step. You made a list of who you resent. What you fear. Now, the people you harmed with your “Sex Powers.” Instructions are in the Big Book. Page 69.
Dear God help me remember the people I hurt.
OK. Work backwards. Isla who went to jail. Puerto Rican producer chick. Married Mexican chick. I fingerfucked that girl Ariel. Clara the 18 year old Persian who cuts her forearms to feel something and works at Jack in the Box. Gabi the fat toadfaced Guatemalan. Agnes Kwon, that cunt. Before her Isla again, before her Dakota, before her Jill or Jennifer or whateverthefuck her name was with the surgery scar. Continue reading
I should tell you I’m married, she said. This after you’d taken off your expired Trojan, the ribbed kind that comes in a gold wrapper; it was so old the gold foil was flaking off so you took the condom and filled it up in the sink after and watched it for leaks. Your jizz chunking up and swirling around like a snow globe. If you had known you would have just stayed in raw and blasted in her. If you’d known some other guy would pay for it. Her husband must be white too. What Mexican married to a Mexican cheats on fucking Tinder. The plan could have worked out and your bloodline might have lived on. Not now that she waited to tell you. No sense of timing. But we’re separated, she says. Ah well, you were smart after all. Continue reading
Go do this right now. It’ll take 30 minutes:
1. Open your profile. Get your photos in order. Put your 3 hottest pics from facebook on top.
2. In “details,” add 2 inches to your height and give yourself a $20,000 raise. Like every other dude.
3. Cut and paste the below essays. Do not edit. In “About Me,” add the name of your town. If you’re a girl, change “cock” to “pussy,” but– you’re not a girl. Get rid of “I’m Really Good At” & “I Spend A Lot of Time Thinking About” if you already have them: Continue reading
They were at Brite Spot. His first date since he knew for sure the thing with the girl was over. Everything was fine and then the speakers played John Waite’s “Missing You.” 80’s night. After that, Elton John’s “I Guess That’s Why They Call it the Blues.” He’d been told to pray when it hurt. Dear Lord, why not just have the clouds spell my name and form a middle finger. His date had the kale salad. Yeah, I went to a couple Sex Addicts meetings once, she said. Dear Lord, forget I complained.
He fingerfucked her against a tree by Echo Park Lake. They went to her house. Her pussy felt the same as the girl’s and he thought he was cured. Continue reading
He was lit and he went to the back patio for a cigarette. It was Monday and the crowd wasn’t bad. Two to one ratio but one cute girl smoking alone. Mexican in Converse. 1981 Love and Rockets.
You look like the girl who blew Eric Stoltz in Rules of Attraction, he said. He knew she would know it.
Haha– that’s not the only thing she did in that movie.
The less said about the rest the better.
I actually love that movie.
Me too. It was the first time I learned that people wipe their ass while they’re still sitting down. That split screen scene with fuckin cinder block head James Van Der Beek. Continue reading