Day two of kitty in the bathroom vs. Stella Marie was stressful. Holy fucking shit, my cat is pissed. She’s been hissing and growling and attacking me. We’ve come to a peaceful agreement, I won’t touch her and she won’t hiss at me. I’m hoping this only lasts a little longer and I have my sweetheart back. Roslin remains clueless and cute.
I went to a fun place today called Cowtown. It’s basically a flea market. It’s a place where white trash and ghetto threw up and smeared itself together. Like the Jerry Springer mall. It’s fucking awesome.
We get there and all I want is some veggies. Many of the local farmers have stands there selling their delicious goodies. I got Jersey tomatoes and some fresh peaches, one of which I devoured immediately and it was gorgeous.
I wanted to go into the porn stall, 3 movies for $10…yippee. I’m not a huge porn fan, I just like to see what’s out there and maybe find something hot. But, all of the movies looked like white trash and ghetto threw up and smeared itself together. Um, no.
In addition to selling all assorted types of shit, they also sell lingerie at this place. It’s really trashy, but again…awesome. So, I was walking by one of the little stalls selling especially trashy lingerie (I almost bought the most obnoxious cone bra there, but alas they didn’t have my size…damn my huge boobs) and I saw the greatest sign ever written.
There on the mannequin written in black marker on a fluorescent yellow sign was, “We carry men’s thongs!”
Thank god someone does.
I’m so happy that they felt the need to reassure potential customers about this. The mannequin was wearing a red tarty looking outfit, nipple-less and crotchless and riddled with lace and rhinestones. I wonder if they had a matching pair to this red outfit. I’d be over the moon about that.
I would have taken a picture, but I left my cell phone at my mother’s house because I’m an idiot and forgetful and a mess.
In other news, I want to say thank you to the guy who emailed me video of his girlfriend giving him head with a request for me to critique her technique because, when you come right down to it, I just don’t get irritated enough.
Eh, really? Does she even know you sent a private video of her performing on you? She had better know. So, if you’re the guy who sent it and you’re reading this…go tell her. I’ll wait.
Toe tapping.
Checking nails.
Toe tapping.
Does she know? Good. Now, I’ll give you my critique.
MAYBE SHE’D GIVE YOU A BETTER BLOWJOB IF YOU TOOK YOUR FUCKING HAND OUT OF HER HAIR AND STOPPED FORCING YOUR COCK DOWN HER THROAT LIKE A JACKHAMMER.
Basically, you were just masturbating with her face. If you did that to me, I’d have unsheathed my teeth or pinched your balls. Did you just cringe? Good, cause I cringed watching that video.
Dude, let her pleasure you or get blowup doll or the Real Doll. I hate guys like you.
That’s all my dears. I’m going to bed. Yup. Home and bed to early on a Saturday night. I rock.
Oh, and because I’m such a blog whore…I created some T-shirts, mugs, aprons, and other shit that advertise my blogs. Take a look at my sidebar, you can’t miss it. I’m kind of ashamed of myself, but not really. You know you want to wear me.
Kisses.
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Fresh Air Lover 