Fuck Los Angeles

20 Sep

pony montana

A four bedroom house in Hot Springs Montana is 99 thousand fucking dollars. Estimated mortgage: $382 a month. You get a separate detached cottage. The cottage alone, in this shithole fucking city I live in – this disgusting extension of Mexico but with additional loud helicopters and barking dogs and garbage taxes and women who’d rather be set on fire than smile at you– a cottage next to a stucco nest of murderous bike stealing cholos who grill cactuses and light off fireworks and gun Harleys 24 hours a day, as many of them in there as termites in one of those twelve foot mounds in Kenya– this shed costs seven hundred fifty fucking thousand dollars, plus property taxes to pay for schools with the literacy rate of the fucking Hills Have Eyes family; the mortgage after a hundred fifty fucking thousand dollars down is the entire pre-tax income of the median American household. Continue reading

Protected: Diary: I’ll Die Alone if I Don’t Get Famous

16 Sep

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Protected: I’d Rather Watch Hitler Rape My Mom Than Date a Woman My Own Age

12 Sep

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Protected: Diary: My Brief Abstinence Career

3 Sep

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Protected: Sanctuary

29 Aug

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Protected: I Am Not Allowed to Think about Hot Young Pussy

28 Aug

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My First Ever Online Date

18 Aug
not her, but close

not her, but close

I was on Match. 2006. My “headline” was “You should totally go out with me.” A girl messaged me saying “my roommate should totally go out with you.” I thought it was some kind of scam but no one else on the site gave a shit that I existed, so, I heard her out. She sent pics. They were of an American Apparel ass model. I thought: OK, now I gotta know what the scam is. So I set a date near my place. I honestly thought there would be people with cameras laughing at me.

I get there and it really is an American Apparel ass model. Also a med student. Really gorgeous, really smart, everything. We drank wine and it went well and she suggested we go back to my place. We did. And I had no idea how going on a date works, so– I didn’t make a move. I didn’t even kiss her. We talked for two more hours and then I walked her out and gave her a peck on the cheek goodnight. I thought that’s what you were supposed to do, seriously. And I thought the second date should be dinner so I asked her out again and she got all hesitant and weird and eventually just flaked.

I’ve been behaving like a complete pig ever since. Chasing down the ghost of the best pussy I ever could have had.

Protected: OKCupid: My Life is Perfect

16 Aug

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Protected: Diary: Back from the Road Trip

15 Aug

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Protected: Diary: Progress Not Perfection

15 Aug

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