So, my rant for the day is why are there a stupid abundance of slutty, up for sex gay guys in porn.
Literally thousands, but never any who just wanna fuck?
Seriously.
I mean, I get hit on more often than people think. I'm secretly really out going. But, most of the time it's either by fucking nutters, old guys, or straight guys who think cock teasing is hillarious.
Side note: I set my friends on you. I tell them, him, go over, give him a boner, get him to think you're gonna let him pound your pussy into mince meat, then leave. That's what he did to me.
They always do it, it's fantastic.
Anyway, it's the same thing! Except I wanna pound you until you're mince meat. But you don't go that far, because you're straight. I even had one dude, we were making out for ages, then when I'm all "Wanna go fool around?" he's all "Uh, sorry, I'm straight, I'm just really drunk and friendly."
They never found the body.
Plus, why is everyone so much hotter when you've got a boyfriend?
Seriously, today I was like "Seriously, Comendant, that guy is so yummy" and she just hit me and pulled a gross face. Because apparently he looked like a car accident victim.
Side note: I have a boyfriend, he's called Jim.
Also.
I'm on shit loads of meds to stop me dying from cholera or whatever it is I have at the moment, and I am so fucking stoned.
Ah, [L'il Porkchop]
Never have I sent you a message, and probably never will because I'm shit at replying, so there's no point.
But this is my Diary to tell you, and other Fakers that [L'il Porkchop] literally makes me laugh out loud.
Which is more than you retards do.
Except the obvious exceptions.
Top 10 Reasons Why a T-Rex Make Shit Barmen.
1- They're basic lack of knowledge of the English language. Yeah, yeah "Rawr" means "I love you" in Dinosaur. But it's taken them, what? Billions? Of years to teach us that? It doesn't make good conversation when you can't aptly order your drink.
2- They're fucking huge. You'll need a pretty damn massive bar to fit them in.
3- They have tiny, ridiculous arms. The beer pumps would have to be up by their arms, miles away from a human who wants the booze.
4- They basically can't do math or work computers, so the whole payment thing goes to shit right away.
5- What the fuck do you pay a dinosaur? Meat? Money? Do they even use currency? What would they buy with it?
6- Dinosaurs suck at writing a CV or an application form. So, they'd find it really hard to get employed in the first place, it's hard to find an employer who goes by word of mouth.
7- They're incredibly emotionally unstable. Because of their tiny, ridiculous arms, they can't give each other good cuddles to ease the pain of heartbreak/hit
8- How do you get a uniform that fits a fucking Dinosaur. They're expensive for humans.
9- They have tiny brains, to match their tiny, ridiculous arms. So it's hard to remember what the fuck it is they're doing, and can only remember one drink order at a time, so serving a group of people can take up too seven days.
10- They're basically killing machines. Who will stomp, destroy and mangle with they're huge, devil mouths anything that comes near them. Which isn't very customer friendly.
I hope this helped you realise, employing T-Rex's isn't very good for business!
The new addition to my current, and ever growing, selection of animals is a parrot called Toby.
He's so much cooler than you.
The family go on holiday to Spain on Monday.
I learned of this a week ago.
They've had it planned since June.
Did I get an invite?
No.
The ONLY child of theirs to have a job and have moved out.
I should be first priority!!
Well.
Coke orgy at my parents house anyone?
I wanna see how many people can fuck on my Mom and Dad's bed at one time before it breaks.
I don't give a fuck how gross that is.
I want to be sunning myself, on a nice beach somewhere hot.
......
Okay. I'll come clean.
I wanna get fucked up in a country where they don't care if I get hammered and piss in the pool.
I'm in a vile mood, so have a diary entry instead of some real interaction from me!
Yay!
I hate cleaning.
I have a huuuuuuuuge bedroom, downfall of a 300 year old house.
Cleaning it takes hours, and effort, and by the time I'm done, I do not want to clean the rest of the house at all.
On a side note.
Work sucked today.
On another note.
When does it not suck?
On another, another side note.
My Henry hoover looks like he's done a few tours in Afghan. Poor bastard.
To conclude, here's a quote of the day:
Em - "But he sounds like he has an accent. He might be hot!"
Me - "Brown person accent? Because we all know you're determined to fuck a guy from every continent on Earth to solve the world peace issue"
Just finished a very, very long day and I've realised.
I'm for sure being a mortician.
Fuck the living.
I've already got all my staff, my friends are well up for dressing dead people.
Which speaks volumes about my friends, really.
But, my thought on it is: is it insensetive to do themed dressings for the corpses?
Say it's Halloween, if we dressed up an old lady as a witch? Or a zombie?
Would people be angry?
Or would they be angry, but secretly go home, go into the bathroom, lock themselves in, and laugh.
Laugh a lot.
I know which I'd be doing.
Haha, this just reminds me of a conversation with the woman who wants to do hair Sophie.
Me- "You dressed my Uncle Reginald up as Lady Gaga!"
Sophie- "Yeah, now he's fabulous! That's £97,000 please"
Me - "HOW FUCKING MUCH?! HE'S WEARING THE STEAK SECTION OF TESCO!"
Sophie- "Are you at all aware of how much it costs to A- buy that much steak to cover a 6ft man and B- how much 42inch hair extentions cost?!"
:]
My friends, with things like this, remind me of why I haven't dived onto the train tracks.
So, as the King of Halloween among my friends, I've been given the task of dressing lots of sexy women.
Mwahahahaha.
Wasted on me, to be fair, but still, I get to do it.
But what's fucking me right off, is the fact that you go above trying to get higher than a size 10 and all the clothes are box cut, boring and just look shit.
A girl who is size 10, has far less curves than a girl who is a size 18.
One of my friends who I'm dressing has such an hourglass figure, but, nothing in her size is tailored to fit that.
All the 'sexy' outfits are size 6-8.
Now, nothing on girls size 6-8, but that's sorta just what you are.
Girls.
I want to dress women with boobs and butts.
It's fucking lucky we've stocked up on corsets, waist cinching belts and I know how to re-fit clothes so they're actually tailored and don't look like circus tents.
Let's play a game.
Shuffle your playlist, skip to the 7th song.
Write the first few lyrics, then the last name of the artist/one of the words in the band's name, then write the track length.
And TA-DA! You've written your own bible verse!
"When I come to the club step aside." Bliix 3:15
Hahahaha,
I actually love that remix :]
Waaaah waaaaah life sucks, everybody sucks I can't make banoffee pie and it tastes like BBQ.
True story.
Today I learned of a great loss to TV.
Someone, I admire the most, who was a basic emobiment of stereotypical gay themes and sort of the youth of today in Britain.
She is gone.
Chloe Mafia.
Google it, bitch.
You're a single mother, who can afford 32" hair extentions and diamante clothes.
I love you.
You kind of psycho, tranny hooker coke-fiend with awesome eyelashes.
Now what are we left with on X-Factor?
A nutcase girl who's slightly demonically posessed and that girl with HUGE hair who raps.
On a side note:
"I'll see her do her in the ass"
"James! I don't want to hear about prostitutes and dildos"
"You know what's wrong? Rick Astley, you can't sexy dance to him"
"Except in old peoples homes, it's the law"
"I accept this law"
I love James. :]
I think when I stopped taking drugs, and started eating like a normal person, I replaced cocaine with grapes.
I fucking love grapes.
Omar Santana.
Just a reminder for myself that I want some of his CD's and have no pen handy to write it with.
:]
Also, coffee date turned into getting a little drunk and having a lot of fun.
It's rare I'm as comfortable as I was.
I've also realised I think I've out grown people I gew up with.
Isn't that odd?
I watch them, constant partying and behaving like dicks and think, thank fuck I stopped doing that.
I'm glad I have friends, and a potential partner who I can talk too (and more importantly who follow) my views on politics and world order.
AlsoAlso, my 17 year old sister was in a bar last night, when one of her teachers saw her.
She thought she was getting thrown out, instead they bought her a drink.
She was eventually kicked out for fighting.
It's wrong I'm proud of her.
She's growing up to be a real little revolutionary.
That story doesn't really show it, but trust me, she's an incredibly intelligent, with views that people should pay more attention too.
14 hour day, done.
Customer service skills lost around 11 hours in.
Ability to speak like a sober person, gone after 12 hours.
Last 2 hours were torture.
But I did it.
Without complaint.
Going on a date, well, I say tomorrow but it's technically in 12 hours.
Very excited.
Also, you know what I didn't know about?
The Aversion Project.
You know what I wish there was mind bleach for?
The Aversion Project.
Read about it, and how Mormons think it's a good idea.
Then lose a little more faith in humanity.
I'm currently on break number 2 of my 14 hour day.
So I thought you'd all like to know, I'm taking a chlamydia test.
As this is a site for sex (lol JK it's where we come to bitch about each other and masturbate over dogs and ugly people)
I feel it's essential for everyone who's sexually active (Me, Jack, Trix and her boyfriend, Keesee and probably like 2 others)
To go out and get themselves checked.
Because, let's face it, people are fucking dirty, and probably have something.
And if, like me, you accidentally get drunk and fuck strangers in disabled toilets, there's a chance you might have something.
Although I am a gay sex god, it can happen to me.
It can happen to you, it can happen to anyone.
SO FOR FUCK SAKE JUST DO IT!
All it is, is peeing in a cup.
I have nothing fun to talk about.
So how about you all get to learn how I needed to find a youtube video of how to put my oversized beany on?
Yeah, I did.
Also, check out the story I'm writing because I've nothing better to do inbetween shifts.
I don't fuckin' know.
I have an hours uncomfortable sleep in a car.
Seriously, when I can't make myself comfy, I get really uncomfy.
Now I wanna party my arse off.
Seriously, what is that hurring outside.
Is it Cthulhu?
Is it the Reaper, finally come to claim me?
Or is SOMEWHERE else getting building work done?!
I hate living in the middle of a city.
Even God woke up at 5:30am and went "Well fuck that" and had a few more hours sleep.
Why meeeeeee.
Off to Thorpe Park it is!
So I've been doing some writing, it's a bit of a themed fiction.
Well, it's me writing Harry Potter porn out of boredom.
I Don't Fuckin' Know. take a gander if you want.
You know what's odd?
I'm in a really good fucking mood.
Like, awesome mood.
I'm loving it.
I've been nice to customers.
I'm making friends.
What the fuck is going on?
So it occured to me, I don't think I've ever told you the story of why I won't go to gay bars.
So my only gay friends are a couple, who're 48 and 43, and have been together for 14 years.
So they go to places I don't usually go as they like kare-oke and I like heavy metal and dub-step.
We're in this bar, it's a kare-oke night.
Why you ask?
Because it's a gay bar!
Apparently we theme every day.
Because we fucking can, and every day is a party.
Except Sunday.
Which is shit.
Anywhore.
So I'm one of the youngest there, and for my age group, the fattest.
I weigh, roughly 220lbs and I'm 6ft1.
I'm straight people normal, but gay people obese.
So I'm insta-hated by my age group, who seclude me away with the old rockers.
Who're awesome anyway, so fuck you foundation wearing, Cher loving bitch boy.
If I ever hear If I Turn Back Time, or Leona Lewis' Bleeding Love again, I'll go Third Reich, seriously.
One of the rockers sings an Ozzy song, I can't remember which.
Fuck you, I was hammered. Then comes and talks to me about never cutting my hair.
Thanks for that tid bit, I don't plan on it.
So I'm talking to all these gay guys, they're all really cool 80's guys.
One of them has AID's and should have been dead in the 80's, but he's still living, still partying, and still rocking the mic.
Awwww. But tragic.
Obviously nature calls. It's been like 3 hours.
I'm like a camel, I pee rarely. Apparently it's a sign of bad kidneys.
Fuck you, I hate peeing anyway, I'll just get new ones.
So I toddle off to the bathroom, it takes ages, I'm wasted and lesbians wanna ask where I got my shoes from.
Zebra print high tops, thankyou.
When I have to wait to use the cubicle.
There are guys jacking each other off by the urinals, I don't wanna disturb that.
When this dude comes out, not many teeth, looks old, smells ungodly.
He walks up to me, and offers me some crack.
I kindly decline, I've stopped being a junky (hence why I'm a chubster, but that's a whole other story)
He then proceeds to tell me I've got nice eyes.
Thanks, I know. I'm hot.
Then it's, with that long hair, you kinda look like a girl.
I never shave, ever, I've always got stubble, I look fuck all like a girl.
Unless I dress up, then I'm hot as a girl too.
So I'm like, uhm thanks I guess.
Then it's.....how about we go back into the cubicle, smoke some crack and you fuck my ass.
I'm like, what. What?
So I left, without peeing, and pretended my friends are my boyfriends.
And that's the story of why I won't go to gaybars!