Important Message

9 Feb

The phone rings. An automated message in Spanish. The only words I understand are “mensaje importante” and “escuela.” Important message from school. I get these twice a week. I press buttons. Nothing makes it English or puts a person on or gets an answering machine. Call back,  get an 18 minute outgoing message about which dates free school lunch applications are accepted in person. Friday… July… 18th.. from…. 12…PM…to… 2… PM. 20 of those and then again in Spanish. The mailbox is full. Continue reading

I Can’t Tonight But How about Tuesday, She Says

8 Feb

Well no. I’m talking to you because you seem like you fuck fast. I fucked my ex. She only hurts me. I thought it would make it better to have another girl taste her cunt juice on me. The air next to me feels howlingly empty without her body in it. So I do not want to go out with you Tuesday. There is no Tuesday. There is no tomorrow. No later. There is now. You can fuck me now or never see me, and if I were you, 38 years old, I would take what you can get.

Let me know your number if you’re down.

One Year of Sobriety

7 Feb

jungle trees

I’m five days early on this, but fuck it:

My name is Delicious Tacos, and I’m an alcoholic. My sobriety date is February 12th, 2014. I have a sponsor who has a sponsor. Welcome to the newcomers and congratulations to the chip takers.

Our stories disclose in a general way what we used to be like, what happened, and what we are like now. Continue reading

The Jerk at the End of a 7 Day Nofap

6 Feb

Many suitors, but I chose “Surprise for Sleeping Sister.” A woman lays on her stomach. You mostly see her ass in multicolored panties. A man strokes his angry red penis for 90 seconds. Squeezes a halfhearted load in her ass crack. She does not wake. You can hear a Family Guy episode in the background. Mr. Spock wins the lottery and tells the rest of the Enterprise to go fuck themselves. McFarlane doesn’t try to sound like Spock. The niggardly load coughed up onto the sister’s plump ass cheeks barely registers. It will be harmlessly absorbed into fabric and unnoticed. There will be no surprise. Continue reading

Coffee Shop Diary: First World Problems

5 Feb
image stolen from bejustgood.com

image stolen from bejustgood.com

All right. New coffee shop. This place and Dinette and Ostrich Farm are all– they’re all the stereotype. 43 year old white people in tangentially creative fields with robust salaries. Drivers of unusual Mini Coopers with ski racks. Girls with weird old money inbred jawlines and purple hair discussing a Tumblr about Women in Tech. People using the word curate. Curate is the new monetize. Get paid for something worthless. I hate white people.

The feng shui is off here. Every seat exposed so everyone in the room can read your laptop. It’s hard to look at girls’ tits. So it was designed by an idiot. Then again, I’m not what they want here. Weird aging lecher who spends little and leers at girls and frighten them. Maybe it’s made so I wouldn’t like it. Continue reading

Slayer

4 Feb

duck

I went to Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous. Because I was gonna have a mentally ill woman fly over the Pacific to move into my apartment. I’ve never met her. Our interactions are emails and skypes. I want you to fill my hot holes with your cum, she says. I want you to get me pregnant and call me daddy’s little cum slut. I think I’m going to take pills and kill myself. But she is 22 and Chinese and pretty. All that matters.

Also because I fucked that girl Sunday. OKCupid. It was the morning after my AA fifth step. You take your diary of the evils you’ve done out of hatred and lust and fear and read it to someone. I was with my sponsor inside a 3,000 year old hollowed out sequoia tree. The next day I woke up and meditated for an hour, per Bill W. in the Big Book. Crows cawed behind me and I understood their language. Creatures putting their song into the world. I thought on all my evils. What I’ve done and could still do. I understood that God was real and I was forgiven. I understood that I’d forget this truth but it would still be real. I was laughing and crying. I felt like I’d taken 12 hits of acid. One of the most significant experiences of my life. Continue reading

Philippines Diary: Shadow of a Tear

3 Feb
image stolen from martialartsmoviejunkie.com

image stolen from martialartsmoviejunkie.com

Deek… too long, she said. I thought: what a great hooker. She’s roleplaying. Making me feel better about my small cock. I put the tip in for a second and then pushed it in with maximum force. She screamed and screamed. She wasn’t kidding; it was hurting her badly. Her cries of fear and agony made me cum too fast. I rolled off her and turned on the hotel TV.

A movie called Ninja: Shadow of a Tear was playing on Filipino Cinemax. A white ninja demonstrates his skill in a paper walled dojo in Japan. His opponent is a fierce Asian woman. She charges him again and again with the jo. Each time he flips her on her back. Never underestimate the ruthlessness of the enemy, he tells his students. Especially… if you’re married. On the ground, she smiles.

The ninja couple head home. Over dinner they chat about respect and tradition and other oriental matters. He heads to the mall to buy her a present. A necklace. The Japanese symbol for happiness. The merchant shows him several. He picks the most oriental tradition-ish one. Outside, a miscreant clocks him through the store window. Continue reading

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