Monday, April 21, 2014

Operation Hoedown

Reposted from Sister Sister

If there’s one thing you all should have learned by now it’s that there is no limits to what people will or will not do. You’ve just got to find the right button and give it a little push, some harder than others. Drunken bar sluts have the easiest buttons of all. Hell a slight graze against their button and the panties will fall like a one legged man jumping rope. I’ve proven this theory time and time again in my countless nights of pouring shots and drinks into my would be victims. When it comes right down to it sluts go to bars the same reason Christians go to church, they just want to feel loved. They don’t give a fuck that it will only be for probably one night or in some cases could turn into a few years. They want it, hell some of them actually need it to feel better about themselves or to know that for just one night somebody wants them. It doesn’t matter that more often than not they will never get a phone call after that night or that no friend request will be sent on Facebook or Twitter. So this all leads up to the night I’m going to tell you about. Remember SLUTS HAVE NO CONSCIOUS OR MORALS!!!

Me and a group of dudes caught the train to downtown Chicago one Friday afternoon after we were done with school. We catch a cab to a hotel and all check into our own rooms because we had a bet on who could pull the most ass for the weekend. Everybody gets dressed and we all meet downstairs in the hotel bar for a few shots before we head out on Operation Hoedown. We get to talking with the bartender and ask him where all the sluts hang out on this side of town and he tells us about a few places to try. We pound a few more shots of Cuervo and start to head out for the night. Our plan was we could all split up or do whatever it would take to conquer bitches but we had to stay in at least teams of two. We didn’t do that for any kind of safety reasons we did it because somebody had to verify the number was true and with the amount of money we had on the line someone was bound to try and cheat. We start to head out and I go to pay my tab when the bartender tells me that he’s heard us talking about our mission. He goes on to tell me that the very bar I am standing in will be crawling with ass around eleven that night when all the cougars come out to play. Folks this is the kind of knowledge you can gain when you tip a bartender well. Let that be a fucking lesson. Bartenders are usually your best source for anything you want to know when you’re in an unfamiliar city. I had one buddy that was always a damn good wing man and we always worked well together. No cock blocking and both of us were willing to fuck a fatty if it meant the other one got some prime. I call McNasty over and tell him that we are going to leave like everyone else and just go around the block and double back. The bartender had already been tipped well so we are guaranteed good drinks the rest of the night and the place will be crawling with ass later. He agrees so we set off with the rest of the boys. We get to the end of the block and the others for some reason think we will have better odds if we stick together. Me an McNasty tell them we are going to go on a recon mission at another bar and if it looks promising we will give them a call. They agree and we go our separate ways. Me and Nasty stop in a little Irish pub and grab a drink just to give those guys time to get a little farther away from our killing grounds. The last thing we needed was for one of them to have to come back to the hotel and see us in the bar. About an hour later we head back and sure as hell there was already a few soccer moms starting to filter into the place. We cop a squat at the bar and start to survey the scene. There’s the typical bar whores mixed with the chicks who are having “a much needed girls night out”. Yeah we all know what that means. They need a break from their depressing ass lives of kids and minivans to feel young and slutty again.

We’re drinking and bullshitting with a few chicks when my boy does the impossible. He tells the girl he’s talking to what our plan is and that he wants her to be the first one. I’m expecting him to either get a drink poured on him or slapped, I was wrong. She grabs his hand and tells him to take her to his room. Well played you motherfucker. Now I’m sitting at the bar with that girls three friends and they are all standing around looking confused. I’m just the right amount of drunk and not giving a fuck so I look at the two hottest ones left and tell them I’m not going to be outdone by my boy so all three of us need to go to my room. They didn’t even get to answer before the third one says what about me. She may as well have had loves to fuck tattoo’d on her forehead at that point. Not wanting to give her the upper hand I calmly looked at her and said what about you? She tells us that she’s not staying in the bar alone while the three of us go upstairs to my room. I told her that if she buys the next two rounds of drinks she can go too. One of the hotter ones gets all offended that I wouldn’t include the slightly cute one in the party so she says I can go fuck myself and she will stay in the bar with her friend. I laughed and looked at the slightly cute one and told her she had just been moved to the starting line up. Off me and two of them go and leave the bitch with the attitude sitting in the bar all alone. We go by Nasty’s room just so he can verify what I’m up to and then proceed to my room. I’m feeling pretty good at the moment so I decide to make second string feel special and tell her she’s first. She tells me we will have to go to the shower because she is having lady problems. WHAT THE FUCK? Why would you volunteer to play the game knowing your ass was injured? I politely tell her that’s not going to happen and she can wait downstairs with the other friend while me and the last hope chick take care of business. Not a fucking chance. The third bitch has enough of how I’m talking to her friends so she tells me to go fuck myself too. Great. I just went from a potential three run lead to striking the fuck out with the bases loaded. Now I’m sitting here thinking do I tell my boy or do I not. He’s already had proof that I went to my room with two chicks so I could be an asshole and let him keep thinking that. I decide that there is too much money on the line to give up points so I am going to let him keep thinking it. WRONG. I walk out into the hall and see the two sluts standing at his door telling him the whole damn story. I just smile and walk over and listen as they get to the part about her having issues. This motherfucker does what I should have done and says he has no problem with it and they are welcome to come jump in the shower with him and the first chick. Son of a bitch. My boy just went up three to nothing. I tuck my tail and take the elevator ride of shame back down to the lobby and the bar. I get there and attitude bitch is sitting there looking confused as hell about where her friends are. I tell her the story and she laughs and buys me a drink. We sit there chatting for a bit when I man the fuck up and try again. No dice. She informs me that had I not been a dick to her friend I could have had all three. Lesson learned I guess. McNasty comes strolling back into the bar about an hour later with his three run lead laughing his ass off as he tells me what I’ve missed. Thanks buddy, thanks a fucking lot. We sit there and hang out with these chicks for a bit more before we start to wonder around from one group of chicks to the next. We finally end up hanging out with a bachelorette party. They have the standard bullshit checklist of slut dares to finish before they can consider their night a success. We help them out with a few of their items and tell them we are in a mission ourselves. They are drunk enough to think they can help us so we are fucking golden. I’m sitting between two girls that happen to be sisters. One is pretty cute and the other is obviously the one who got to the dinner table first. I’m focusing on the skinny one and talking shit but occasionally will turn and talk to hefty. Skinny is eating out of the palm of my hand at this point. The next thing I know she takes my hand and slides it under her skirt to show me she’s not wearing underpants of any kind. Fuck yes!!! If there’s one thing I should learn to do it would be to remember the chicks name I’m talking to when I’m drinking. I have a habit of using words like cutie or some other bullshit title when I’m talking to them because I suck at remembering or caring what their names are when I’m drinking. I’m sitting there two knuckles deep in this chick and can’t remember her name for shit so I just ask sweetie if she wanted a drink. She jokingly laughs and ask if remembered her name. I said fuck yes I did and got up before she made me prove it. I’m standing at the bar waiting when hefty walks up beside me. In my mind it made sense but looking back now not so much. I fucked up and asked her what her sisters name was like she was on my team and shit. Mistake. She tells me and goes back to the table. I hit the pisser on the way back feeling good about myself. I make it back to the table and everything is the same as when I left. Skinny takes my hand and puts it right back where it was and looks at me smiling and says ok smartass what’s my name? I’m all cocky and shit because I still think I know it and her sister wouldn’t ever do anything to fuck up my night. I told her the name her sister had given me at the bar and she smiles. She leans over and whispers in my ear “do you feel how good it is down there”. I said hell yes. She hits me with “well remember it because its the last time you get anywhere near it because you just called me by my moms dogs name”. What the hell???? Yep. Her sister had not only told me the wrong name on purpose but she had told her sister all about our little chat at the bar. Fuck me damn it!!! She slides my hand out and tells me to go fuck myself. How many times can one guy be told that in one night? I’m clearly not getting anything from this group of chicks tonight since they all know what just happened so I go and sit at the bar and lick my wounds. A little while later hefty walks over to get a drink and laughs about it all. I do not feel like dealing with her shit so I tell her to fuck off. She tells me that it’s not her fault I suck at remembering people’s names that I was trying to fuck. We spar it out verbally for a few minutes when she pulls off the greatest whore move of all time. She tells me that she isn’t as uptight as her sister and she didn’t give a damn if I remembered her name or not because after she was done with me that night I would damn sure remember it tomorrow. Really lady? You just cock blocked me with your sister and now you’re telling me that you’re gonna fuck me! Whores have no boundaries they won’t break to get what they want. She tells me that her group is getting ready to leave and as soon as they do we are going to my room. Who am I to argue with that? I’m as fucked up as a ran over dog at this point so my asshole side is in control. I walk over to skinny sister and tell her I’m about to fuck hefty sister and that she missed out. I don’t know when I will learn to quit while I am ahead but I hadn’t learned it at that point. She asks hefty if I was telling the truth and they get into an all out argument about how skinny sister has always gotten first dibs on whatever she wanted and how she’s played second fiddle her whole life. Yadda yadda yadda. Feeling pretty good about myself I grab hefty by the hand and tell her she can take her anger out while she rides me. She looks at skinny and says “I’m about to fuck him like I did your exhusband”. Skinny is standing there in complete disbelief as me and hefty walk to the elevator and go up to my room. I ended up coming in dead last with only one point that weekend but let me tell you one thing folks…….I still remember Alicia Michelle N€#£€¥’s full name.


Sunday, April 20, 2014

I love pussy

I love pussy. The way it feels. The way it sounds. Not always the way it smells.

Laying in bed snuggled with my cat, every night for 10 years since the first day the x wife brought her home as a tiny sickly kitten on Death's door. She never called me asshole, never said fuck you, never slapped my face, never said she wanted to shoot me or run over me with a car, never got shitfaced drunk, never had me take her on dope runs that may or may not be felonies, never made me watch her shoot up an insanely expensive addiction, never stole my dogs, never stole my cats, never stole all my property, never stole my inheritance, never stopped loving me, never stopped cuddling me. Thank you. I love you too.

Only problem is peeing on the bed, but my girl friends squirt too, nothing a mattress cover don't fix.

Thursday, April 17, 2014

I have a dream

Or 3. Lucid dreams. I'm in control.

Each one dreaming about my hot naked girl friends. Some are in a dream together. Some get their own dream. Some sexual, fucking. Some playing games, jealousy and sabotage, backstabbing, danger.

I awoke refreshed, each time, then back to sleep.

A cure for loneliness. Abundance in virtual reality.

Before sleep, I always pray for them. Good things, for all of us. Coincidence?

It helps that most of my girl friends are strippers and porn stars, and I've already seen them nekkid in person, or much much more....

Goodnite Horny Readers! Happy dreams.......

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

100,000 Whores & Hookers

Today is gonna be The Day... woohoo!

100,091 VIEWS -- 11 PM 16 April 2014

Saturday, April 12, 2014

The Orgasmic Kiss

Real men don't slack off on their manly duties

The Kiss

We celebrate kisses in literature and art. On screen, it’s the moment we’re always waiting for, and the climax of every great love story. And in our own lives, it’s the ultimate way to express how we feel.

By Sheril Kirshenbaum

A passionate kiss causes our blood vessels to dilate as the brain receives more oxygen than normal. Our cheeks flush, our pulse quickens, and breathing becomes irregular and deepens. Our pupils dilate, which may be the reason so many of us close our eyes. We also activate five of our twelve cranial nerves that spread out intricately to different parts of the face. The nerve pathways guide the way we interpret the world by helping us see, smell, hear, taste, and touch.

On top of that, our lips are associated with a disproportionately large part of the brain. Sex researcher Alfred Kinsey even reported that some women could reach orgasm from prolonged deep kissing without genital contact. While this sounds unusual, it likely has to do with the way our lips are packed with sensitive nerve endings so that even the slightest brush sends a cascade of information to our brains that often feels very good. Although we often don’t think of them in this way, our lips are the body’s most exposed erogenous zone.

Probably helps the more nekkid you both are

The kiss is a universal language that transcends time and boundaries. Decades ago, anthropologists estimated that over 90 percent of cultures practiced the custom, and with the rise of the Internet and ease of travel in the 21st century, it’s fair to assume that nearly all of us are doing it. Today we see kissing practically everywhere. It is a perfect example of how both “nature” and “nurture” can complement each other to create a single complex and variable behavior. Humans seem to have an instinctive drive to kiss, but the way kisses are expressed is influenced tremendously by individuals’ culture and personal experiences. Yet unlike other human behaviors, science has barely begun to put kissing under the microscope despite its clear evolutionary and personal significance.

How does a kiss work? It acts like a drug by stimulating the natural chemicals in our bodies. When there’s real “chemistry” between two people, the right kiss can spark the magic of true romance by triggering a cocktail of hormones and neurotransmitters to course through our brains and bodies.

Kissing keeps our bodies extremely busy interpreting an enormous amount of information as billions of little nerve connections distribute signals to help determine what happens next. As neural impulses bounce between the brain and the tongue, facial muscles, lips, and skin, these impulses produce a number of neurotransmitters that influence how we feel. The right kiss can lead to the feeling of being on a natural “high.”

One of the most important neurotransmitters kissing can promote is dopamine, which is involved in helping us feel rewarded and experience pleasure. Dopamine is likely the chemical basis for terms like “walking on air.” This is the neurotransmitter responsible for the type of intense desire that makes a new romance feel addictive. Dopamine spikes during novel experiences, and a first kiss with someone special more than fits the bill. It causes us to crave more and can even lead to a loss of appetite, insomnia, or euphoria.

Of course, dopamine is only one of many chemicals that guide our emotions during a kiss. Involved with strong feelings of attachment and intimacy, oxytocin is a hormone that can be triggered by kissing. Endocrinologists believe that it is the substance that helps keep love alive in long-term relationships after the initial novelty has subsided.

Meanwhile, a passionate kiss can also raise our level of serotonin, which leads to obsessive thoughts about the kissing partner. Scientists have observed that serotonin levels in subjects involved in new relationships look a lot like those in patients suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder. Kissing also stimulates adrenaline, which helps our bodies to anticipate what might occur next. It boosts our heart rate, which reduces stress, and can make us break into a sweat. In other words, the body’s chemical response to a good kiss mirrors many of the same feelings frequently associated with falling in love.

Love isn’t just romantic. Our brains are primed to associate kissing with feelings of attachment and security from birth. A newborn’s earliest feeding experiences at his mother’s breasts involve movements and mouth pressure similar to kissing. These actions lay down the neural pathways in a baby’s brain that continue to be important in other powerful, bonding relationships throughout his life.

Under comfortable conditions, a kiss from someone we love lowers levels of the stress hormone cortisol, reducing uneasiness and making us feel secure. However, under pressure or in the wrong setting, it can have the opposite effect, which brings up kisses that do not go so well.

Research in evolutionary psychology reports that 59 percent of men and 66 percent of women have ended a budding relationship because of a bad first kiss. When the chemistry feels wrong, both partners instinctively sense they should back off.

How might this work? A kiss puts two people in very close proximity. Our sense of smell allows us to pick up subconscious clues about the other person’s DNA or reproductive status. Biologist Claus Wedekind found that women are most attracted to the scent of men who have a very different genetic code for their immune system in a region of DNA known as the major histocompatibility complex. Pairing off with a male who has a different set of genes for immunity can lead to children that will have a higher level of genetic diversity, making them healthier and more likely to survive. (However, it’s important to note that women who take the birth control pill exhibit the opposite preference.) So even though we may not be consciously aware of it, we use behaviors like kissing to judge whether to take a relationship further, based on genetic evidence. In this manner, it’s fair to say that the act of kissing serves as nature’s litmus test.

Not surprisingly, all of the intense stimulation that a positive exchange initiates can create a very vivid memory. When Butler University psychologist John Bohannon studied over 500 subjects, he discovered that most people remember more of the detail about their first kiss than their first sexual encounter, no matter if it took place five months or 50 years ago.

Whether the experience evokes fireworks and violins, or doesn’t quite live up to expectations, the kiss serves as the single most universal and humanizing practice we all share. It is a reliable way to gauge our relationships and express our emotions, far beyond that which words can convey.

Sheril Kirshenbaum is a science writer and research associate at the Center for International Energy and Environmental Policy at the University of Texas at Austin. She is also the author of The Science of Kissing: What Our Lips Are Telling Us. Kirshenbaum was a TEDGlobal 2011 speaker.

Bitches be like...


Friday, April 11, 2014

The Whore Whisperer

A frightened little girl, terrified of real monsters in the dark. Sabrina.

A recent seizure. Withdrawal Syndrome. Flu. Depression. Fear. Loneliness. Insecurity. She lays curled up and crumpled in the bed. What an uncomfortable position. I feel her pain. No wonder she can't sleep.

We're under the blanket. She can't stand to be touched. Too much pain from the seizure. Grand mal. Afraid of another one.

She frowns. Unhappy camper. I bet she does this a lot. Alone.

I gently massage her neck, scalp, temples and face. The frown relaxes to a smile. She coos little wimpering sounds of happiness, like a baby wild animal. Never heard such a sound before...

She snores. I doze. We awaken. I massage. She coos. She wimpers. We doze. Repeat.

I do this all night long.

We sleep late for a change. Rested. Refreshed. BF is busy, no chance of surprise visit. Feels nice. She's happy. I'm happy.

"Why did you make those wimpering sounds when I massaged you?"

"I loved it! That felt amazing."

"I'm glad. I've never seen you so sick."

"I love you." She says.

Life is good.

BTW she's not really a whore, just a stripper, who doesn't strip at the bikini bar, too preggie to work, who looks like a whore and acts like a whore to survive, and make a lot of money. A good mom fighting for her kids despite horrible odds. A beautiful lady, drowning in an ugly world of addictions and rape.

I love her. As a friend.

I drink from her Mountain Dew. I shouldn't have done that.

I catch Stripper Flu.

Adventures in the sex trade

June 7 2002

SOMEWHERE DOWN UNDER - Stand-up comedian turned brothel receptionist Meshel Laurie tells all in her comic one-woman show.

What's a nice girl like Meshel Laurie doing in a place like the Sydney Opera House? Then again, the Melbourne comic says the three years she spent working as a brothel receptionist prepared her for just about any eventuality.

It is, she says, a career in which a crisis occurs every 20 minutes and in which "you see things, hear things and, sometimes, assist in dislodging things you've only ever heard about".

Now 29, Laurie is about to share some home truths about brothels with Sydney audiences in her one-woman show The Whore Whisperer, which she has already played in Melbourne, Adelaide and at the Edinburgh Festival.

Laurie, who was born and bred in the Queensland town of Toowoomba, had a short stint at university studying acting before she made a name as a stand-up comic, first in Brisbane and later in Melbourne. Five years ago, tired of working four or five stand-up gigs a week, she got an offer from a friend that was too good to refuse.

"She said she was working in a brothel and they needed another receptionist," Laurie recalls. It sounded perfect. "A bit exciting, a bit different ... And it was also a transsexual brothel, so I knew that would be fun."

Laurie was a genuine innocent back then, with no knowledge or preconceptions of the sex industry. She certainly had no plans to turn her experiences into theatre.

"But the minute I walked through the door I thought, 'Oh hello - this is a show for sure'," she says.

That first night was quiet. "I can remember sitting at this desk with three or four transsexuals leaning over it, just taking turns to tell me outrageous stories and sizing me up, and shocking me ... They were ... just loving the expressions on my face as they were telling me these stories - stories about famous people, or just really weird people ..."

When she came to write the show two years ago, she realised her audiences were likely to be as ignorant of the sex industry as she had been on that first night. After three years in eight brothels, Laurie had become fairly jaded, but she set about trying to reconstruct events, and her reactions to them. "I thought, 'If I can remember back to that, then that will kind of make it chronological for the audience as well'."

The one-hour show is set around the reception desk of a busy brothel, and the incidents are based on real events.

Laurie was so good at the job that required the combined skills of mother, confidant, salesperson, nurse and banker, she considered making it her career.

Then, suddenly, she decided she'd had enough of the clients, the girls and the visits from the police.

Laurie isn't surprised that many prostitutes see her show. But she is still shocked when she recognises a client in the audience.

"One night there were two clients sitting in the front row ... I know I'm not going to say anything, but how could they be so sure?"

Where: The Studio, Sydney Opera House
When: From Tuesday until June 22
How much: $25/$20
Bookings: 9250 7111

Monday, April 7, 2014

Scary Bitch* comes out to play

So you wanna date a hot stripper, wee Grasshopper? Sit, listen, and learn....

"Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, it is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all. Love never fails. - so faith, hope, and love remain, but the greatest of these is love."
-1st Corinthians, 13: 4-8, Holy Bible

God forgot the part where Love calls at 2am screaming, got that wakeup call last night lol. I think she broke up with me, but she never actually said that....

I'm out of money anyway, thanks to her, so I wouldn't be seeing her again for 3 weeks. She knew that, I'd already told her, in a slightly loud and disturbed voice, "Please don't fuck me over!" I gave her everything I had, but it wasn't enough. It's never enough. She didn't care about me, or anyone else, her addiction was out of control. But something major has changed tonight....

Sabrina, the face that spanked 10,000 men and one W&H

"I'm NOT your GF!!!" her raspy voice screamed from the tinny droid speaker. What a great invention for safety during fights. So that's what her voice sounds like off opiates. Withdrawals a biatch.

"I know. Of course not." I replied calmly, awoken from a dead sleep while watching The Hoblit movie (as my demented dad calls it, "I don't like Hoblits.") We're just friends, that's most likely all we will ever be. More like asshole buddies, without the anal.

More screaming ensues. This is fun! Not those boring discussions we tend to have. She probably needs a good scream, like she desperately needs a good orgasm. After 28 years of marriage, I'm used to it, like when the ex met Miss Lovely lol.

It's tough arguing with a lady who has total amnesia. "I'm no lady!" she reminds me.

Not the kind of forgetting little things when convenient. Even though she's a shameless pathological liar.

I'm talkin grand mal seizures on a regular basis, where entire days are wiped clean from her brain injury. The kind her friends and family take advantage of...she's their $lave. Does this explain why she's a pathological liar, she just gave up trying to remember?

It's also tough dating a lady as the third wheel of a love quadrangle that has dozens of wheels, if not 100s. To be fair she swears I'm the only guy fucking her besides her married BF, for the past 19 months (6 months with me). But then, she's a pathological liar. We're having an affair behind her married BF's back. Her 6-foot-5-inch 300-pound tattooed semi-dope-dealing BF (lawful because he's a smart businessman, I know no details so FTP). No texting allowed, BF can read it or read the log, he's got kids so he knows how to do that creepy shit. I don't call her, she calls me, almost every day. To fuck, or daily HJs now during her healing from surgery. Finally I had to say Stop, no more sex, just repay the money you borrow, that's more important now.

He named me Serial Killer in her contact list haha. After their abortion last week, she calls him Killer now.... There is stress involved. And preggie hormones. And money...lots of it, or used to be....

She showed me her ultrasounds. Her handwriting on the margins, "I love you baby, Momma's sorry we're not gonna meet! I'm sorry!" She cried, part of her died, (then she lied?), I could not re$i$t.

"What's so special about me?" I previously inquired. "There's nothing special about you lol," she replied. I reminded her the day before she told me she loved me, held my hand and pulled me tight and wouldn't let go, then I spent the night after an exciting day of her having a seizure while driving my car. We almost died. No memory.

My dick is way bigger than his, according to stripper Katelynn, who did them both in a double. "More like a finger cot size of condom," she laughed. Katelynn said she wanted to murder me once upon a time, tried to run me down with her car.... A convicted felon bank robber.... In a war of competition with Sabrina.... Probably in love and hate with her too. She cruises my FB, Sabrina don't....

It's hard to keep up with a high-maintenance stripper accustomed to nearly $100,000 a year income to play opiates with. Her rich business owner BF, her lawyer and her CPA can't even keep up with her desires. Two of the three are now in bankruptcy, possibly due to dipping into their business reserves to feed her pains.

Last week her lawyer cut her off because she wouldn't fuck him, replacing her with a girl she introduced. Bottom line is the bottom line, she's scared to death her BF is BK at risk of losing everything in his life, he's using me as a lame excuse to cut her off, losing her notel home (I asked her to move in with me for free), facing horrific withdrawal symptoms (free detox is available or free suboxone to bypass detox) including seizures that could kill her, or look like they could (vitamins and caregiving prevent seizures).

Even I blew all my month's money on her in one week, as she begged, cried and dick-twisted during her suicidal abortion and seizure disasters. Friend helping friend in time of need. Just like I helped Miss Lovely stay out of jail, an emergency expense that crushed my Christmas. If we weren't friends I wouldn't waste my time on her, either of them. If we weren't friends she would never have invited me to dinner, accepted my 90-minute massage then fucked me. I prefer the term "date", prostitution or FWFB sounds too cold for what we do, which is far more than fucking. We are friends, who fuck, for money, because that's the only time these girls fuck anybody, or love anybody, same as any married woman lol.

An addicted woman with manic depression and claimed multiple personalities who's been gang-raped and forced to dig her own grave by rival pot dealers.

But hey, sometimes we must compromise in relationships, right? Right? Fuck you.


Last night I got a series of frantic calls and texts from Sabrina. Not for our usual bootycall liasons. Which was just as well because she's already conned me out of all my money for this month, with her suspected fake date of post-abortion, OD suicide watch and real life seizure while driving my car. She denies strongly that she lied on the abortion date, but she said a different day to me after the seizure and amnesia, same as she told Katelynn before the seizure. I would've given her the money anyway. I felt especially bad for her this week and tried to help ease her tears, pain and loneliness, at my expense. Even had a real date yesterday but was unable to afford dinner and gas for my hot little guest in a bikini with her kids, all cuz of Sabrina (and Miss Lovely's doper friends who defaulted on payment of loan). To me that's what friends are for, to help each other without judging, and hopefully without enabling. Or robbing. Or hurting.

Seems her stalker married BF sugardaddy (or somebody...her jilted lover Katelynn?) noticed a couple of pics on my Fuckbook account that looked remarkably similar to "his" GF sugarbaby. Fair enough, I shouldn't have posted those since she asked me not to, since I'm the backdoor man for her "monogamous" love-hate relationship with her married man. Forgot about them actually, buried under 1000s of others. No tags. I never posted anything or "liked" anything on her profile, to avoid her BF. I removed the pics as soon as she told me to, I should've done it sooner. I have 100s of pics on FB of beautiful lady models who are my friends, some of whom I fuck. Married BF won't let "his" stripper GF shoot pics with me, something about I would steal her soul and pussy lol. We fuck anyway of course. She enjoys throwing my breakable gifts at his unbreakable truck... a Freudian sign of True Love and hate.... but love and hate for whom??? She unfriended me, I blocked all non-friends from snooping, was planning to do that anyway this month for job hunting. Can't stop the frenemies though....

"Crazy" is often defined as "passionate"

But the pics were nothing he didn't already know since he uses her iPhone GPS app to track her every move, even following us in his huge truck while she drives my tiny car, something she loves to do and makes her happy. She even pulls up beside him and we ditch him laughing when he does that. So that pic of her driving my car was nothing new to BF. Nobody else is crazy enough to let her drive their car, except her lawyer, before he replaced her last week for not puttin out, or for her driving 105 mph in his Bimmer. So the pic of her driving my car was not news to her BF... the problem with that photo was is showed her playing dress-up for ME.

Even her BF tells her to "be on her best behavior" sometimes. My comment on the pic hurt her feelings ("dinner at XXX will never be the same"), unintentionally. So she made it a point to hurt mine, as much as possible. The most painful barbs contain an element of Truth. Normally I like Truth, it's a great way to maintain sanity without drugs or alcohol. My friends are constantly amazed I want to hear their Truths, and they tell me things they've never told anyone else their entire lives. Including Sabrina and dozens more. Truth, my friends, is Love.... Love and hate are often indistinguishable...two sides to the same coin.

She texted, "The reason you're lonely is..." Ouch! Mostly based on false memories. If you need to attack somebody to feel better, bring it. She once told me the reason she's lonely is her married BF spends every night with his wife and kids, and her kids are stolen by DCS who gave them to pedophile dopers rapists who tried to murder her.

Sabrina is so ALIVE. But she's not...

I post 3 innocent pictures, but she spills her guts on "Childish FB" for all the world and his wife to see. Her FB posts tell her Truth:

"I miss you so much when you're gone... Wishing I wasn't alone all the time... nights are the hardest... so many nights restless wishing someone was holding me but I'm always alone and don't see it changing... things aren't perfect with us anymore... you don't care how I'm feeling... you just got me when you want me... real love shouldn't make me feel bad... I only want what's best for you and I'm not it... so lost and confused... no matter what I do I still lose... I know that what I want can never be possible, couldn't be good enough anyways.... (On the way to Debtors Prison,) Lord give me the strength to cope and deal with this situation, you know how hard it's gonna be the way I feel for the first time in my life, I'm so scared! Damn I love my man, no matter what sweetie you're worth the wait... It's amazing how you'll change for a person who will never love you or want you the same, CRAZY!!!"

Sadly, I didn't even read her posts until after this blowup, but it's like I was reading her mind by listening to her spoken words. As a friend, I'm there day and night to take up the slack and keep her sane, or try to, but only when she calls begging me to. And talk her down from train robberies... I presume keeping her out of jail is important to her BF. She especially loved and missed his $4,000-a-month gifts to her.... She says she don't believe in God anymore, "I'm afraid there's nobody up there listening to me," but I pray for her anyways. I hear her spoken dreams and fears, almost every day.

The second pic was a side shot from a video she agreed to shoot for a college project. Her face was not visible in the pic, but she talked to the large camera in the video. She even wrote the script herself, smiling on her way to work at the stripclub. I was in her room for 5 minutes. I think she paid $10 for my gas to drive her to work, back when she was fair and balanced. Total amnesia.

The third was a generic artsy shot of her bra hanging from a lampshade. Not because of me, she was just drying it after washing. A popular art shot with 26-million similar pics on google. Her bra was not identifiable as caressing her boobage. It was a beautiful shot, the calm before the storm.

"Lose my number I'm his GD girl!" And other mean and hateful things. But no complaints about the size of my manhood lol. I never call her number, except to return her missed calls, as she orders me to do, almost daily.

I calmly reply in my defense (my calm tone further enrages her of course), trying to feed her memories of times forgot, to use in her defense with her married stalker BF. Not even I want her sugardaddy to stop paying her way, though he is her #1 enabler, perhaps making it harder for her to clean up...even she says that. Same for her stepdaddy, impossible to get clean around the two of them, she says, so she will never get her kids back without leaving them.... So perhaps me "making" her jealous BF break up with her is the best thing that could happen, the event needed to get her clean, so she can dump me just like ML did? That would be awesome, my job is done. Or losing her married BF could destroy her and kill her. Oh well, I tried my best as she asked me to do, sorry if it wasn't good enough. Or too much.

"I don't even want another GD text from u ever." And more hateful things, her feelings and addiction are clearly hurt. My post didn't poke fun at her, it admired my special memory of our profanity laced Sunday dinner, speaking the fuckword often and shoplifting food with the lil old church ladeez, while dressed awesome in skintight dress, babybump and stripper heels. Which really is a fond memory for me. Bucketlist for sure. I love it when a lady says the word FUCK, in public or private. She can really turn on the heat when she wants to. Even her BF has to tell her when to be on her best behavior lol.

We make a handsome couple don't ya think? Just friends...

More legal defense from myself, calmly helping her handle her jealous BF's objections. Standard sales technique. She's perhaps the best most-ruthless salesperson I've ever met. And she's hot hot hot. Except when she's not. Withdrawals are a personality transplant.

The only reason I shot video of her seizure driving my car was that when we got to the ER the doctors could perhaps identify which drug would be best for that type of seizure, but she awoke from her coma before we got there, and she didn't want to go, saying no meds work or make it worse. I believe her. Her seizures started as a child, after getting run over by a car while visiting her mother the hooker, long before her drug use. This seizure was precipitated by heroin withdrawal, walking, flashing lights and malnutrition. At least I now recognize the warning signs: eyelids fluttering, eyeballs rolling back in skull while talking, looking very pale and sickly perhaps from very low blood pressure. She knows the signs too, and pulled off the road and parked before going haywire, saving us from near certain death.

"Oh. Don't text me again."

"Ok then"

She's always told me to never text her, nothing new there. Guess she forgot. Like she forgot the $60 she promised to repay me yesterday, or the $760 she owes me, not countin my food and gas investments. Not counting the fucking investments, excellent value, except for all the cash n dash. It'll be a couple of days before she calls again...laughing. Or three weeks till payday, which she literally knows down to the second at 5am, as she proved this month.

Actually the next day, but not laughing, not yet, still hurting, bad. Times are changin... for better or worse? I apologize again, pray for her and wish her the best. I will miss her hugs, best I've ever had...mommy hugs full of love... hugs so good other jealous strippers take me to lunch, throw themselves at me and rip their clothes off in my bedroom.

When she's not telling me to fuck off, Sabrina tells me this

She did save my heart from Miss Lovely's demolition derby, as even ML's parents warned me would happen lol. I thanked her often for that therapy. She usually just shrugged in apathy, this Grand Master of PUA. I'm always proud to be seen with her, even on her darkest days and nights. Her smile can light up my universe. Her laughter is intoxicating. Her sluttiness is liberating. Her love is empowering, when she allows it. "I love you, as my very very fucked up friend lol." She laughed.

Sabrina don't want a man who's actually available, too scary, fear of abandonment. Maybe for the best to lose her BF enabler? Hope she gets clean and finds a man with a real job who loves her for who she is and is always available for her, day and night. Especially those lonely nights, that's why she asked me to stay there. She attacked me for being lonely, with her false memories someone else put in her head, but she said she's lonely too. She's chasing the impossible fairy tale, chased by demons. Was she most angry because I wasn't going to call her or text her, to give her money for 3 weeks? All arguments boil down to money, or lack of, don't they? I'm the only one pulling her in the direction of getting clean, something she says she's desperate to do to get her kids back. She's a much tougher case to cure than Lovely, the cancer is more embedded in her family life and professional life. The rape trauma was far more traumatic in "quality" than Lovely's quantity if that's possible, yet in some ways "better" since it did not happen in childhood. Her legal problems are much more expensive to fix. Her medical issues are much more severe but perhaps controllable by someone living with her every day. I estimate $10,000 would set her on the right path, keep her out of jail, get her back to work, living in proper housing to get her kids back. Will anyone step up? Can I man up? Have I lost her?

Did Sabrina really break up with me? Then I just saved a ton of money with goodbye. And eliminated my risk of going to jail. Even though we were having sex every day, I've never been so happy for a break up. Woohoo.

Wild Bill loves his porn stars just like W&H


That same morning I got a call from Miss Lovely to bring booze and go play with her hot lil GFs, one married ex stripper who already said she wants to fuck me, the other is a stripper I'd already met on my own...... And she wanted to borrow money, of course, had her stripper friend make the call, Amelia.

"I love stripping! Made $3,000 in a couple of hours (same as me selling cars). I love taking my top off too, and I'm an ass girl," Amelia bragged. Broken Doll. Heroin Girl.

Did ML know? I doubt it, ML's a broke codependent enabler now, stretching a part-time paycheck, foodstamps and free housing as far as she can. ML once earned over $100,000 a year stripping and fucking, I respect that. As a guy, I'm jealous of that! She could be quite the entrepreneur now, if she wanted to be.... Just no dope dealing or whoring, please!

"Why didn't you tell me that when we first met at counseling? That's how you should start every conversation," I teased. Another active doper fighting unsuccessfully to get her baby back. ("They're the only people who understand me!" ML pleads to the clean and sober me she don't wanna be around.) Her daddy is shacked up with a young doper whore, one of ML's high school buddies. Small World.

ML & Sabrina: Would you trust these stripper girls with everything you own? W&H does...

ML already has my credit card #, and my house key.... And she's missing her married BF... off to work for a change while the little girls play... and call me.

She demanded two visits same day, and even paid me back her debt. "Thank you! Nobody does that, you're the most honest person I know." Pathetic, I know.

Then ML kicked me out before her married BF got home from his rare workday.

"He's not my pimp!" who calls himself Pimp, calls her Hooka, has his niggas in da hood call her runnin pimp game threats while we fucked and laughed, says he wants to donkeypunch ML in the back of the neck

"He really hates you!" (But what about you? Do you hate me? Do you hate him? Does he hate both of us? Do you hate both of us?)

"Why?" I inquire.

"For everything!"

"Can you be more specific?" (Probably for narcing on his recent drug buys, he should be thankful I nipped it in the bud, so they can get their daughter back. Better me than the court.)

"When he wanted to kick your ass."

"I was just joking and trying to defuse the situation." Where her ex customer and former roommate granpasugardaddy invited her on vacation to the beach, after he tried to murder her BF and off himself. I sold him a sauna, seemed like a nice normal guy, nice house, though his live-in mother looked at me funny when I left with "his" young GF. I mentioned the fact that several ex customers are in love with her, by her own admission. "Fuck you, do you want to get killed?!" she hissed at the time.

"I would have let him do it, too!" (kick my ass, perhaps not kill me?)

"He'd just fall down and pass out on the ground," I replied matter-of-factly, and he did, further riling her sense of Oh-my-God-I-fucked-up-picking-the-wrong-BF-but-I-will-never-admit-it. I'm such a good friend I paid for his booze and helped pick him up before the cops came. Or maybe he'd beat the crap out of me as a teenage boxer from ages past?

A jealous pimp, as daddy calls him. ("He's not my pimp why does everybody say that?! I'm an independent contractor," she used to say.) He was her employee on $1,000 a month salary for room and board, and one sexual favor max per week lol. He's the only guy who let's her fuck everybody she wants, male or female, and he never cheated on her. I certainly would never agree to that, and I told her so, after she asked me to take his place if he refused to clean up. I could do an open relationship both ways, I told her, but a one-way open relationship would be emotional suicide for me, like it is for her BF.

"I think he likes that I fuck other men," she laughed. "He's loyal. I've got to give him a chance," she told me later, sadly, after fucking me, alot, and enjoying orgasms, alot.

I respect that, don't like it, but I respect her decision, so long as he takes care of her needs. All of them.

Guess we wont be playing in the pool today that me n ML fucked in

"You have to leave now, he's coming home soon." I'd been there 5 minutes or 15 minutes. At least I got my money repaid, the most important thing to my survival this month.

Her (our) doper friends looked shocked on the couch, the couch we fucked on. Her doper friends who sold dope to her BF, risking her baby forever, and I narced to save her (not my place, didn't want to, it was an emergency). Her doper friends that may have lost their kids forever, yet whom I helped today get an impossible suboxone appointment, to save their lives for their babies. Her doper friends that now get daily visitation with family, something ML's family refuses to give her despite being clean and sober. Our doper friends whose parents say I'm the kind of clean and sober friend they need, same as Lovely's parents said. I'm their only clean and sober friend that don't run away from the insanity. Does that make me insane?

At NA we guys laugh about how hard it is to run away and detach from hot young doper girls, especially those actively using in "recovery". ML's self image is so low now, thanks to family? Why can't her family talk WITH her and just love her? Even clean and sober, I worry for her safety and sanity. And his, he's my friend, I like to think. We both care for her, literally. We understand, better than anybody. Sometimes the worst feeling in the world is to understand.

"He's my man." Who she said she's not in love with. Who she fucked 50 guys with. Who let a transvestite lick his cum out of her, often. Who dealt her drugs, and let her fuck to buy his. I can't compete with that. He kept her warm during long lonely nights, but so did I. I solved all her financial challenges, I solved all her housing challenges, I solved most of her legal problems, I kept her out of jail, and I gave her the best orgasms of her life, often the only orgasms she said, all day and all night, something he can't compete with. She once asked me to be Her Man. I lost everything for her. Then I lost her. If only I'd said Yes....

"I know." I only loved her as a friend. She said she loved me as a friend, often, during sex and otherwise.

"OK, let me get a hug then."

"No, how about a handshake?" Her guests look shocked again, as we play out our little Peyton Place for their entertainment. Her friends love to hug me, and more.

"Sure, a handshake..."

We reach out to each other, as I pull her close for a hug. She resists, but not much. We touch, we hug, a little, in friendship.

"My BF doesn't even get that!" She smiles in surprise. And shock. I broke down the barrier? She needed that, my love cup was already full, hers needed filling. It's not about me, it's about what she needs to keep love alive in her heart and soul. She says without love, she's an active addict, at risk of death. But a hug's a far cry from her telling me to take her without asking, without payment, and I did, once upon a time, all for her pleasure and satisfaction and love for life. My nude Hooters girl friend suggested to go ahead and hug people you're angry with, she does, whether feelings are hurt or not. Whether she has bruises or not.... Excellent advice. Man up. Just watch out for bruises. And bitchslaps from the x wife, who thankfully moved out of state, I hope.

"I know. That's very dangerous for you." To cut yourself off from human touch, because your baby has been stolen, and not even your parents will give you full visitation. They hate her married BF pimp addict dealer, as they call him, but punishing her for choosing him is nearly killing her. I very much disagree with their decision, it can literally kill her. Parents of addicts usually stop loving their addicts, falling for the Tough Love brainwash, her stoner daddy pulled that shit since she was 2 years old. Funny how stoners look down on other addicts. Funny how ML is turning into a snobby right-wing conservative Republican to please Daddy, while she gets free welfare in the ghetto. I did everything I could to convince her parents to accept her choice in BF, for the good of their grandchild and daughter, at my great expense. I can share. These ladies taught me how to do that. He did give her the baby that saved her life, allegedly. Can I hire her a real lawyer to get her baby back, that her BF lost?

She doesn't want me to leave, it shows. I'm just playing with her now. Trying to hit most of the points I needed to make that visit, DVD updates etc, in a short time while winging it. Maybe I should be glad she's moving me into the No Contact With BF Zone? That's Fuckbuddy Zone....

She didn't really like Spring Breakers, "It just turned into a shooting spree." She threatened to shoot me last month, "if she had a gun". If she didn't have opiates, "she wanted to kill all her customers," she said.

"You should watch Requiem for a Dream," me and her friends suggest.

"I saw it," she said in a bored tone. I guess fucking a chick in the ass with a double dong for a room full of strange men just to get drugs was a typical day at work for her, once upon a time. "I loved Leonardo DeCaprio though," her Italian DNA made her wild side. Wrong requiem, not Basketball Diaries. Wonder what she'd trigger with Requiem? Guess I'll never know?

"Goodbye." I leave her with the doped and drunk man and woman she's been fondling and trying to fuck for months, behind her passed out BF's back and in front of his drunken face, while refusing to touch me. Because she's addicted to addicts, who deal dope to her BF. I asked them to be kind to her when fucking, she's my friend, she's more fragile than she acts. Why do I get the feeling I'm the only person who believes in her?

On the drive home, she texts, "I'm sorry."

"I understand."

"I'll ask him if you can come over later."

"Sure I'd like that." Not likely she'll ask, not likely he'll say Yes. Cockblock. He's going to a very dark place, back to drug addiction with his alcoholism, despite her protestations too much. I hope his counseling kicks in before its too late. No more dinner, DVD and vodka nights, the 3 of us? I will miss those very much. Can that fence be mended? Should it be? ML said the only reason BF is (sort of) clean and (sort of) working was his jelousy of me -- if I'm not around no need for either.... I just get to pay her bills, and loan her dozens of DVDs, to keep her boredom from turning her depression back into addiction.

I'm now her official Backdoor Man, again, a role I tried to avoid with her desire for an honest open relationship, as we had before. She taught me well, but I fucked it up, partly with this fictional blog, mostly not enough expendable income to hire a team of hired gun lawyers while paying her bills. Hard to go totally dark with comsec when you actually care about somebody, Sabrina can't even do it, I doubt ML could do it despite her juggling 50 dicks on caller ID. BF and I agree, the only person ML cares about now is her baby. BF says that's the first person she ever really loved. She hasn't told me she loved me in 6 months... but only because I couldn't afford $$$$ to get her kid back, no matter how hard I tried in the crooked communist court. But big things are happening this month with my career, so the game's not over yet.

Her rich family said, "We're glad to have you back, and we won't talk about any of that stuff." Domestic assault. Family addictions. Family arrests and imprisonment. Pedophile rapes. Attempted murders. Prostitution, not just by her. Her $100,000 a year income spent on dope. Her amazing love for people. Some of them, anyway.

Imagine if a psych counselor said that, "let's jus play ping pong and watch tv until this postpartum depression, IV addiction, PTSD from months of violent childrood rape and death threats, attempted murders and multiple personality shit fixes itself." Imaging being raped and nearly murdered by that same psych counselor, as did happen to ML? That's why I always talked to ML about serious matters, I got her a private lady counselor and took her to group meetings. That's why I worry when I can't hang out for weeks at a time now, because she still can't talk to her counselor about the serious stuff, for fear the counselor will rat on her to DCS and steal her baby away forever. DCS wants her to relap$e, it happen$ 100% of the time they keep telling her. She's the only mom in the program that hasn't relapsed and flunked a dope test. In fact she graduated the program with a perfect score and they still won't give her baby back. Her dad didn't even know about the childhood rapes until I told him, he didn't seem able to handle that, too angry, which is the correct response to hearing your 6-year-old daughter was raped 100 times and threatened with death. He was especially angry at his addicted ex wife who failed to tell him for 15 years to keep his child support rollin in...but he never talked to ML about serious stuff during all those years of only a few weeks visitation during summer vacation, visitations she quit showing up for when the addiction kicked in. So that's why I worry most when I'm being locked out of her life now -- who's she gonna talk to for staying sane? BF, who hates going to 12-step meetings and still turns to alcohol and dope to "forget"? Or her rich family who were never there when ML needed them? In decades of marriage in literal combat situations I was still able to debrief my then-wife and allow her to function at a superior level, but her childhood demons and childhood addictions eventually caught up to her after refusing to talk in counseling or group. Little Red Lovely is not out of the woods yet, big bad wolves are still lurking in the shadows of her souls. ML still hasn't figured out that just talking honestly about everything is the rarest gift among friends and family, and the most valuable gift I gave her, literally. Same for Sabrina. And I always told ML I'd never judge her, something her family does every day.

Now ML's idea of fun is gettin shitfaced drunk, takin her top off with her gals and guys, watchin porn with guys pullin their dicks out. But who am I to talk? I do the same when I'm visiting her doper friends lol, without the drunk. Is ML scared of BF for me, or her? She has a family trauma history of being punched in the face by her giant drunken stepdaddy... one source of her anxiety disorder, and why I tell her I will never judge her. Sure I get frustrated or angry, so I go fuck somebody else, problem solved lol. One more reason she hates me I guess. Or she don't give a fuck. Or she's jealous and in love... Ha! Either way, it all depends on money, same as any relationship.

Would ML already have her baby back if I were living with her instead of him? Probably, I would've hired a real lawyer, and I had $5,000 cash to do it. Would I have failed a drug test like her BF did so many times? Never. Would she have been getting unlimited visitation from her family 7 days a week if I were living with her instead of him? Definitely.

I did ask her to marry me, if that would help her get custody, but she's too traumatized by her parents' divorce to ever consider marriage with anyone, besides she's not in love with me, and I'm not in love with her. We just loved each other as friends. Would she have 3 extra kids AND A WIFE if she were with me? No. Would she be much better off financially if she were with me? Of course. Would I be punching holes in walls, or threatening to punch her, with me in drunken blackout rages if she were with me? Never. Would she be hanging out with beautiful nude models and naked strippers, and getting her fav girl on girl on girl action if she were living with me? Most definitely! LOL.

Miss Lovely enjoying stripper Kallen's ample boobies thanks to W&Hs $itting beside her

Would she be getting daily hugs, 1-hour massages and multiple orgasms that she told me she loved me for? Absolutely! Hell, I'd even give her an open relationship to fuck her guy friends if it were open for me too, something her drunken BF is suddenly freaking out about and cockblocking now, but she may desperately require for her own sanity.

So ML's paying an infinitely higher price than I for turning down my offer. I feel good about that, if you know what I mean, but not in a gloaty way. I did everything I could to help, 100% wide open throttle, I held nothing back, and I feel good about that. I made the same offer with Sabrina to help get her kids back. Their loss, not mine. I feel good, just my heart got yanked on by these awesome ladies, these broken dolls. Their preggie hormones say they want their babydaddys, even if it destroys them. I wish them well.

Part of me is very relieved they turned down my offers, especially Sabrina, with her active addiction, but Lovely is at high risk of relapse too. Both are very high milage with extensive crash damage. I can't afford their $100,000 a year addictions, so I'd be living with a potential needle whore or dope dealer, something I have no interest in doing, and wouldn't put up with for long. Which is probably the real reason both turned me down LOL. I'm not a spineless pushover, I'm a man. Lots of other hotties out there lookin for a real man who's actually available and willing and able.... Time to play.

Body Artiste

Thank God for Susan, my wet bikini girl covered in tats. A second date already scheduled that same weekend. Should be nice hangin out with someone clean and sober with her shit together....

Our second date in the pool and jacuuzi is pleasant and brutally honest. Both of us discover our dark sides rather quickly. Both of us testing the waters for sharks. A single mom in recovery, a single man in need of family. Both of us wary of reality, been there done that.

So far only fucked ML in this hawt tub, filter removes 90% of sperm

Did we pass our tests?

Susan is very similar to my other friends (addicted to heroin, psych meds, suboxone, money issues, in love with a babydaddy but sad she's not with him), but "better" in other ways (working a real job as a tattoo artist, house, car, custody of cute kids, suboxone).

Nothing I can't handle. She's my only lady friend not a stripper or ex stripper (not 100% sure), though she's got the body for it. And knows it. And knows she works next door to a strip club.

She told her son to be a good boy.

"But girls only like bad boys," I interrupt.

"Don't tell him that!" she smiles.

"But it's true," I say.

"I know, but I don't want him to think that."

"Good guys need to stop giving up so easily, they need to man up and stick around," I reveal the secret.

"Exactly!" She liked that...SCORE.

"I think of myself as a Good Guy who won't quit when it gets scary lol." She smiles, a slightly scary smile...SCORE 2.

"Have you ever been to jail?" I refuse to answer, just smile.... She looks at me sideways and begins to smile.

"Just 3 times."

"What for?" she asks. I delay my answer, she smiles.

"I've been twice," she volunteers.

Fun little Truth or Dare on a variety of topics.

Hmm...does suboxone block orgasm same as roxy? Got a lot of experience fixin that with Miss Lovely...and she loved it! Susan got off the antidepressants after 2 days, so she dodged that orgasm-killing bullet.

I got to observe her freak out on the phone, when her sister cancelled their planned free dinner (and free sitter for our date rape?). Bipolar much? I smell FWFB. She stabs people with holes for a living.

Nothing I can't handle. She don't scare me at all, but I do know what the hell I'm getting into. As a fixer upper she appears to have most of the hard work already done (or she's crashing and burning?). Although young, she does have a lot of miles under her belt, a lot of pain and distrust to overcome. Then there's the 2 or more kids, unknown custody issues, unknown BF/babydaddy issues, unknown family issues in 3 states. What went wrong with babydaddys? What went right? Just another temp friend, or maybe more?

It's a journey of exploration, not the destination, that's most fun. A friendship forged in raging hot water. Will it stand the icy tests of time and dollars?

A fun weekend with 3 friendly ladies and their girl friends. Catch u later, gentle reader. Good luck in the art of love and war.

Update: Texted Sabrina the next day with suboxone dr #, smartass reply was from a guy, either married BF or addicted stepdaddy? Is it really over with Sabrina? Thank God before she destroyed me.

Some people are not meant to stay in your life, just stay a lil while and teach you a valuable lesson. These girls are my teachers. They're professional sexperts. And I'm hot for Teachers lol. Will they stay or will they go?

Two weeks later

I get a call from an unknown #.

"Hey what you doin?" a lady asks with a raspy voice. It' Sabrina. Sounding a little less doped than normal.

"Gettin ready for work. Are you back with your BF?"

"Not really (just fuckin him every day in makeup sex for my photo ops despite her abortion injury). I don't have my phone (BF took it away) but I was told you texted me. (stepdaddy has it)

"BTW I haven't sent you a text in two weeks...."

I did have a two word text for holiday cheer saved as a draft, sent to everybody but her a few days ago. But my droid sends random texts and sexts to random folks on my contact list. Yup, checked my call log, my cellphone sent her that draft text this morning before I woke up. DOH! So now my droid is playing matchmaker.... Or I'm texting in my sleep.

"So what you been doing?" I'm curious.

"I went out of state stripping." Full nude. Can't do it in state, popo scaring her employers. Glad she didn't need me to go with, as she had suggested.

"Good, I'm glad you got to earn some money." So I don't have to.

"Why don't you come over," she asks.

"Not much money to play, you took all I had this month." But no GPS tracking either, so this might get interesting... or boring, or just plain comfortable.... God protect me. She memorized my cell # even with amnesia...nope just got it from my text, after telling BF to shove his phone "so I won't bother you all night with texts!".

"I need some help," she begs.

"So what are you gonna do for me?" I inquire.

"I'll be your friend!" she snarls.

We end our lovely date in the Emergency Room, after I insist her festering injection injuries get surgery and antibiotics. She didn't appreciate my joke about amputation or death. One-armed bandit strippers are not in high demand, though she might pull it ooff.

Of course I let Miss Lovely in on our adventure, glad she graduated from that inferno, sometimes she offers good avice, sometimes not so much. "You live for that shit," she fucks with me. "Six months clean go me!" She'll make a great rehab counselor lol.

"No I don't, I hate it and we argue. I like the GFE -- hugging, kissing, massaging, fucking, sleeping, dining, errands, family, and I try to keep her alive and survive gangrene."

ML's doper mommy friend called while I was in ER with Sabrina gettin cut open. ML's lesbian married friend wants to fuck me for dope money, when I say no she wants to leave her blackbelt hubby and move in with me. "It's the only way I can get clean and get my kids back." I agree, doctors give him an unlimited supply of free opiates. Too much temptation for an addict.

After 6 hours at 2:30 am, Sabrina was still abandoned by doctors in the ER, who said, "I only help people who care about their lives." She stormed out, yelling, "You have no idea what people have been through to get to this point!" Good point. And doctors are the top drug dealers and serial killers in USA. Without sleep she was due for another seizure, thanks to that doctor. She probably earns more money than that MD. My other stripper friend was passed out and thus missed her opportunity to move out tonight, but I did tell her I Love You first. Same love for Sabrina after a hug goodnight. She slept alone. We all did. Sabrina never told her BF I took her to hospital, in fact, she had me pick her up while BF was still there...we saw his truck everywhere and nowhere, his GPS iPhone tracker abandoned in her room. She enjoyed the McDinner I bought her. We talked about many things...apologies accepted, smiles revealed.

Women scream at me, call me asshole, tell me to fuck off, say they wanna run me down with a car and shoot me... even an entire classroom of ladies called me asshole today... and Sabrina punched me today as well... but they always call me back lol.

*Scary Bitch is the highest form of flattery according to the PhD author of Secret Diary of a Callgirl.

"I like women who haven't lived with too many men. I don't expect virginity but I simply prefer women who haven't been rubbed raw by experience. There is a quality about women who choose men sparingly;
It appears in their walk,
In their eyes,
In their laughter and in their gentle hearts.
Women who have had too many men seem to choose the next one out of revenge rather than with feeling.
When you play the field selfishly everything works against you;
One can't insist on love or demand affection.
You are finally left with whatever you were willing to give,
which often is:
Nothing." - Charles Bukowski

"Always tell the ones you love that you love them. Because you never know if you'll leave or when you'll see them again, if you do...." - Sabrina

Now I'm datin 4 strippers maybe more, bitches b screamin at me tellin me f u ahole I got me a married man bf don't mess wit my married bf I'm in tru luv I be like ho u busted marriages n relationshits all day long on a daily basis as ur professional job so y da fuk do I care about makin ur married bf jealous now wen u b da one callin me several times every day to cum over n giv u wat u need tellin me u luv me lmfao