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Monthly Archives: December 2018

Girls gone wild, Guatemalan roast edition

I have joined a sorority.

At least, I think I have.

At any moment, a pillow fight in peekaboo nighties may break out.

Keep in mind, public masturbation is still a crime in the USA. (Europe? Who knows anymore.)

I know, I know, details.

I am in a Starbucks that is in a really nice part of town.

Translation? Money, lots of money in this area.

This is LA so the definition of money can hit ridiculous levels. (As compared to parts of the country where “Money” translates into an ac unit in front room AND the bedroom of your double wide.)

It was one of those days were I sat down to write and came up empty.

And then the front door opened and in they came.

12 young, well monied, college girls.

This might be the beginning of a porn film.

And then the “Basic bitch” shit began.

Coffee selfies were taken.

Ridiculously basic complaints were made and the shrill voice of my sorority sisters proceeded to ruin every vile thought in my head.

Very disappointing.

Why do basic bitches have to ruin everything?

Shouldn’t they be passing Facebook chain letters?
Poorly written cut and pasted messages that claim to have been hacked, so don’t accept a new friend request from them. (AND NO ONE GETS THAT REQUEST)

Or posting memes about how a real man or a real friend behaves.

You know, weak minded, basic bitch stuff.

But maybe I am being mean here.

So let’s look at the facts:

  • I am making fun of total strangers without knowing anything about them.
  • I am not related to any of them.
  • My coffee is cold.

Ok, I am absolved of all blame here.

How can I possibly be expected to be nice to total strangers with cold coffee?

I think you are asking too much of me.

The manager sees me approaching and pours me a venti Christmas blend.

I must look shakier than I thought.

When I am low on caffeine, I get twitchy and am capable of anything.

The girls begin shrill laughter about something Manda has on her phone.

Gonna be a long day.

This started out so exciting.

And now? Migraine is developing.

I am creamed and sugared and just settling back in at my laptop, when things change.

Two of the girls begin to quietly make out, and Manda is now getting teary eyed at something in her phone.

Sex and drama, the two things that could salvage this.

There is a part of me, the part that was an alter boy, the one that is thoughtful and kind, that realizes that its wrong to be both joyful at Manda’s pain and horny at the young ladies intimate moment. (Sporting a semi that no one knows about is NOT a crime.)

However, let’s not lose sight 2 very important things:

  • I was only an alter boy for 10 days before that whole scandal erupted. (And thank God for bad memories, no one but me remembers the details of that vile affair.)
  • A single tear making its way down Manda’s cheek, public tongue kissing by smoking hot collegiate girls and an amazing Guatemalan dark roast can make the disappointments of the moment evaporate like a humor blog with little to no readers.

Plus, the Guatemalan roast is THAT good. (God bless Guatemala)

Mmmmm coffee.

Happy New Year.

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Posted by on December 31, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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The Old Hoe Hall of Fame

“Who shows up at a blind date and can’t get it up?”

The line is epic, the tone is rude and the speaker is an old whore. (Disclaimer – The views expressed in this blog are based in fact and completely true, hand to God pinky swear on that one.)

Using the term “Old whore” is not because of her obvious promiscuity.

Its for being crass enough to say this in a Starbucks while sitting at a table with young children 2 tables away.

Here’s what we know so far:

  1. Betty is old enough to be my mother’s aunt.
  2. Betty is single and on the prowl.
  3. Betty is not aging well.

Online dating has done to dating what politics has done to civil discourse. (In other words, gang raped it and shit all over it.

Despite putting you in touch with thousands more people that you might have never met, it is now harder than ever to meet Mr/Mrs Right. (That includes Mr/Mrs Right Now. Patron saint of one night stands and non-lethal STDs.)

And the quality of people has gone thru the floor.

It used to be that if you wanted to meet someone of a certain class or economic strata, you simply went to a bar in a better section of town.

Catfishing seems to be the order of the day. (I would normally tell you to Google it, but its central to the story here.)

Catfishing is basically pretending to be who you aren’t.

The simplest form of Catfishing is posting photos that are not yours. (I once got catfished by a 76 year old woman who posted photos of her daughter. Even good coffee could not save that awkward little meet-n-greet)

People pretend to be wealthier, better looking, better place in life, better you name it.

But it may be a new and weird type of catfish that you present yourself as a player when your sexual function is gone.

The concept of the player who cannot play is new.

Or maybe very old.

Either way it does tone down the spotlight pointed at Betty the hoe.

Someone suggested that I am slut-shaming Betty the hoe.

It’s not shaming because Betty has no idea I did it.

It’s not like anyone she knows is going to read this.

So it’s like a private joke between me and the three people who actually read this shit.

Also, let’s have a slut talk, shall we?

Slut is a word that mean girls and assholes in highschool say to hurt girls that may or may not have slept around.

I know many a girl called slut in highschool who hadn’t done a damned thing.

And the girls calling names were usually the biggest sluts I knew at the time. (I was lucky enough to meet some truly epic sluts after high school.)

But a woman out of school who sleeps around?

She is empowered and knows what she wants.

More power to her. (I was also lucky enough to meet of few of these lovely ladies as well.)

Hoe-shaming would be more accurate.

Except for one thing.

Hoes don’t give a shit.

Not in a confident way, but in more of a ignorant of the fact that it’s an insult to begin with.

I sight as an example:

Betty sipped her coffee and let out a big sigh.

“Maybe I’m just some old hoe.”

Maybe?

Don’t sell yourself short, Betty.

You are a hall of fame Old Hoe.

Mmmmmm, coffee.

 
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Posted by on December 30, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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