So I woke up this morning just to find two girls in my bed named Princess and Storm trying to hog my new velvet sheets I got for my birthday from my mom. I was going to kick their asses out for the disrespect. However, since I woke up with my custard launcher saluting the world, I decided to make them useful. Meh… I’d give ‘em a 5.5 at best. After they fixed me my breakfast of eggs, bacon, biscuits, gravy, pancakes, and syrup (no offense guys I don’t eat sausages ) I collected my hefty tips for letting them sleepover, and booted their skanky asses out the door.
Since it was already 1 o’ clock in the afternoon I made my way to the local bar. Since I realized I only had large bills in my pockets I decided to beat up a few bums named Chuck, Steve, and Irving in order to collect change for bartender tips. Hey, I might be a lot of things but a bad tipper ain’t one of them. When I rolled in the joint I noticed this fine trick named Tracy was going to be my bartendress for the day. I decided to get a dry martini. And when she asked me how it should be prepared I proceeded to show her by placing the glass between her big fake tits (hey, daddy’s money went a long way) and had her shake them. After that I directed her to stir it with her tongue. Since she did the job so well, and gave me service with a smile, I decided to reward her with an even better tip this afternoon, than any money I could give her that day. So I took her back to my place. Tracy was a solid 6 in the sack. And I rocked her world.
After bustin’ up some hoes and collecting my money this evening, I decided again to play around with stuff online. After writing a critical review of Ingrid’s Inbred Incestuous Spunk-gobbling Skanky Sluts (featuring my mom and sister) I decided that it would be a good idea to find even more hoes online.
Before you roll your eyes, snap your fingers, and say: “Oh no he didn’t!” listen to what I want:
• I want a girl who knows what’s good for her. Seriously. If I ever give you that look you should apologize, be quiet, and give me what I want if you know what’s good for you.
• A girl who can drive fast. I know it sounds like a contradiction that I want a girl who can drive, but seriously—Banks don’t rob themselves, and I sometimes I need money. A Danica Patrick would be worth her weight in money for my purposes.
• A ho that knows the difference between oregano and pot, and sugar and cocaine. Sometimes and man can’t pickup his own fix. Don’t double-cross me like my last 5 wives.
• A girl who is a talented mime. Better yet, a mute. Women should be seen, not heard.
• Don’t ever expect any sex. Give me my money first, my fix second, and my booze third, and then maybe I will give you what you want. Probably not.
• I will probably try to have sex with your friends, mom, sister, coworkers, etc. If that is a problem for you, then I am not your guy.
• I won’t remember your name. If I call you Suzy, Ethel, or Bob while we are in bed go ahead and take it like I give it. Oh, by the way, I suck at remembering numbers too. If I don’t call you it’s because Mr. and Mrs. Jones is getting booty calls at their nice suburban home at 2 o’ clock in the morning.
• Don’t be blonde. Seriously, I am tired of doing all of the blondes, their mothers, and their sisters (sometimes at the same time). We all know it’s fake anyways. The carpet never matches the drapes.
• Don’t use bad grammar. "U r fun I lik u lol ttyl" is not a sentence. I already read and write on a third grade level so I am good with the “big” words.
• If you already have a boyfriend, fiancé, or husband that’s a plus. He can provide you with food, shelter, clothing and gifts. He can take you to the mall to try on 1000 pairs of pants just to leave with nothing. All I want is my money. And if I am feeling like rewarding you, then he can hold the camera.
• Lastly, if you cannot tell that everything above was all a big joke then I feel sorry for you. Really. I. Am. Sorry.
That’s it for now. I’m done.