delicioustacos

This year sucked. I want my money back. Can the damage be reversed. A year alone. Year as a male self improvement caricature. Year in the Joe Rogan Expanded Universe. A guy talked shit so I learned boxing. Watched MMA. When you box you put your front leg out. A guy can kick it. How to prevent this. I learned Muay Thai. Primitive instinctual bare bow archery. Bought and customized a rifle. Put 3,000 rounds through it. Waiting. Waiting for savage Robert E. Howard hordes to swarm the stairs. Waiting to make my stand. Nothing happens. My ears just ring. Continue reading →

This guy kept me alive. I’m gonna keep him alive. A lonely, lonely year but I’d go out and my savage bear size feral cat Woodrow came and sat with me. He lives in the yard. It took me a year to touch him. A year of leaving out food. Water. Crouching down saying hey man I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be scared. Continue reading →

This year was like a movie where the first two acts were good and the ending sucked. You gotta write the ending first.

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From Savage Spear of the Unicorn

I went to pray this morning, looking out the front window. In the front yard the grass has gone to seed. A little wren came. And then finches with red faces, I don’t know what they are. Landing on the foxtail grass making it sway under their little weight. Throwing their heads back to swallow the seeds. They inspect the weeping ficus I have outside in a pot. Investigate the undersides of the leaves. Maybe looking for aphids. A female hummingbird, a rufous or Allen’s hummingbird, perching on the ficus branch, fluffing her neck, stretching out her long exotic tongue. You can hear the mourning doves out back. The mockingbirds. Ravens with their tock-tock sound like that hollow ribbed wooden thing you rubbed with a stick in music class in third grade. Not so bad. Power lines come down from my house, down the hill to the street, and the other day the rare red-whiskered bulbul landed there and looked at me. He was with his four children. I was afraid he’d die alone. But he caught a break.

Yoshiyuki Iwase

I pray for my enemy to have a hot Asian wife with a tight, tasty pussy. No weird nipples. Perfectly proportioned nipples like Lilly had, not wormy ones. Not big personal pan pizza size areolas. Relatively small short nipples but not freakish small to where your mouth could find no purchase. Sensitive and she cums easily. Doesn’t mind when you cum too soon.

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God I want money without work. Is that so wrong. Pussy without being good looking. Without being around other people. I want a child. But I don’t want it to shit, blow snot, et cetera. A wife who changes shape. Disappears when it’s time to play Xbox. Goes off into some hobby of hers. Better yet just vanishes. Also a housekeeper. A hot housekeeper. Better yet an ugly Schwarzenegger housekeeper with incredible pussy. Ugly housekeeper who I don’t fuck for five years but then take test for Expendables or something. She becomes a hot housekeeper. A wife who can be white, Asian, at the flip of a switch. Better yet no switch. She just knows. God I’d like some fruit. Blueberries. A piece of chicken. I don’t know. God grant me The Witcher 4. Elder Scrolls 6- even you don’t have that power. God let me not be selfish. Thank you for the birds. God give my enemies hot tight pussy. God, please, anything. Anything but my old man dick and this fucking conference call.