Jury duty & Bootycalls should both be more efficient
I got an online gig with examiner.com. From here on out, my non-cursing, non-dirty stuff will be housed there. My filthy ass shit will still be on here.
Here's the info to locate me:
My Examiner homepage
Click here to subscribe
Click here to favorite me
Click here to see my 1st article
I will be writing there once a week or more and I will still be writing the same crazy ole shit over here. Just a heads up. Oh Yeah... go there often... cuz that's how I get paid...
*************************************************************************************
I am going through a selfish phase.
I ain't gonna lie. I just finally got the chance to write... for pay. I still work 9 to 6pm most days and also maintain this blog as well as coming up with new and creative content for the Examiner.
All parts of my life are now about efficiency and effectiveness. Efficient eating. Efficient sleeping. Efficient fucking. Efficiency.
I need sex that distinctly meets my needs. This has definitely made me alil bitchy. It's not intentional.
I normally realize that I want to get laid some time around noon. I send out a text that gets straight to the point. For the sake of both efficiency and effectiveness, I will text every bootycall in my cell, simultaneously. It's tacky. But it's only "really" tacky when they are aware that they aren't the only ones receiving the text.... If they are special, I call or do a special direct text. I do have soft spots in my heart....
My mass texts normally it read alil something like this:
"Trying to fuck?"
3 very direct and to the point words that make my intent clear.
or
"Can I sit on your face?"
Once again, direct and to the point.
Nowhere is there a bit of pretense. No small talk. No fucking intro. None of that.
If the only thing we do is fuck, why pretend? Why talk, why act, why bother? We can talk, but usually I prefer not to. I normally like to save my talking for people who can stimulate blog ideas rather than just stimulating my clitoris...
Lately, the job has been getting done. Shit has been effective, but not quite efficient. There's been a nebulous cloud of oldies and goodies floating around in the world that I have been falling back in touch with.
I got into the car early last week. I was headed out of the way but not that out of the way (or so I thought). I'm wanderin in the general direction of this dick and im thinking that the GPS is taking me on a new and adventurous route... No. Clinton.
That mofo moved into his boys basement and ain't tell nobody. SMMFH.
At this point I end up clowning him because I keep on imagining fucking on a God Damned Sectional Couch with that shit sliding all around and shit... Cuz it's in sections.
Surprisingly enough, he had a bed and no sectional. There was no odd couch sex. There was bed sex and floor sex and side of the bed sex and alil bit of living room sex.
All of this is great but Clinton is still really fucking far. Maybe he can come to me in the future.
Fast forward to Wednesday. I had jury duty. So I get there, only slightly latish and I go through the metal detector. The guards scan my bag 3 fucking times and keep on asking me if I have a camera.
No. No, I do not. I have no fucking camera. None. At all.
I, like everyone else in the world, have a camera phone that takes video and a blackberry that does the same. Get with the times. Wtf DC Government? So I go upstairs and check in.
JURY DUTY BEEEEYOTCH! DC is tooooo fucking small. So I walk into this juror holding area, Room "3130" and who the fuck do I see The Back Ruiner. My back just healed too.
So I'm sittin here, watchin "National Treasure", writin this fuckin blog and arguing with him over how to do Sudoku. The Jury duty folk explain the whole "Voir Dire" process and also tell us how we can be dismissed from service if we know one of the defendants or witnesses. I figured since I've already managed to run into one person I fucked, it ain't inconceivable that I could see another and I'll own up to fucking the Judge, the Prosecutor and the Defendant if it'll get me outta jury duty.
There is definitely a go hard factor in there. Who lies about shit like that... I would... I would.
I didn't get called but positive things did occur. I have scheduled a run in with The Back Ruiner. I am also prepping for the "Sexcation". Definitely excited to be reunited with him.... Definitely excited.
Here's the info to locate me:
My Examiner homepage
Click here to subscribe
Click here to favorite me
Click here to see my 1st article
I will be writing there once a week or more and I will still be writing the same crazy ole shit over here. Just a heads up. Oh Yeah... go there often... cuz that's how I get paid...
*************************************************************************************
I am going through a selfish phase.
I ain't gonna lie. I just finally got the chance to write... for pay. I still work 9 to 6pm most days and also maintain this blog as well as coming up with new and creative content for the Examiner.
All parts of my life are now about efficiency and effectiveness. Efficient eating. Efficient sleeping. Efficient fucking. Efficiency.
I need sex that distinctly meets my needs. This has definitely made me alil bitchy. It's not intentional.
I normally realize that I want to get laid some time around noon. I send out a text that gets straight to the point. For the sake of both efficiency and effectiveness, I will text every bootycall in my cell, simultaneously. It's tacky. But it's only "really" tacky when they are aware that they aren't the only ones receiving the text.... If they are special, I call or do a special direct text. I do have soft spots in my heart....
My mass texts normally it read alil something like this:
"Trying to fuck?"
3 very direct and to the point words that make my intent clear.
or
"Can I sit on your face?"
Once again, direct and to the point.
Nowhere is there a bit of pretense. No small talk. No fucking intro. None of that.
If the only thing we do is fuck, why pretend? Why talk, why act, why bother? We can talk, but usually I prefer not to. I normally like to save my talking for people who can stimulate blog ideas rather than just stimulating my clitoris...
Lately, the job has been getting done. Shit has been effective, but not quite efficient. There's been a nebulous cloud of oldies and goodies floating around in the world that I have been falling back in touch with.
I got into the car early last week. I was headed out of the way but not that out of the way (or so I thought). I'm wanderin in the general direction of this dick and im thinking that the GPS is taking me on a new and adventurous route... No. Clinton.
That mofo moved into his boys basement and ain't tell nobody. SMMFH.
At this point I end up clowning him because I keep on imagining fucking on a God Damned Sectional Couch with that shit sliding all around and shit... Cuz it's in sections.
Surprisingly enough, he had a bed and no sectional. There was no odd couch sex. There was bed sex and floor sex and side of the bed sex and alil bit of living room sex.
All of this is great but Clinton is still really fucking far. Maybe he can come to me in the future.
Fast forward to Wednesday. I had jury duty. So I get there, only slightly latish and I go through the metal detector. The guards scan my bag 3 fucking times and keep on asking me if I have a camera.
No. No, I do not. I have no fucking camera. None. At all.
I, like everyone else in the world, have a camera phone that takes video and a blackberry that does the same. Get with the times. Wtf DC Government? So I go upstairs and check in.
JURY DUTY BEEEEYOTCH! DC is tooooo fucking small. So I walk into this juror holding area, Room "3130" and who the fuck do I see The Back Ruiner. My back just healed too.
So I'm sittin here, watchin "National Treasure", writin this fuckin blog and arguing with him over how to do Sudoku. The Jury duty folk explain the whole "Voir Dire" process and also tell us how we can be dismissed from service if we know one of the defendants or witnesses. I figured since I've already managed to run into one person I fucked, it ain't inconceivable that I could see another and I'll own up to fucking the Judge, the Prosecutor and the Defendant if it'll get me outta jury duty.
There is definitely a go hard factor in there. Who lies about shit like that... I would... I would.
I didn't get called but positive things did occur. I have scheduled a run in with The Back Ruiner. I am also prepping for the "Sexcation". Definitely excited to be reunited with him.... Definitely excited.
Comments