The horror of analingus

My master, The Liberal Librarian, forces me to pleasure morbidly obese women on the weekends. Not only do I have to sexually satisfy these slow and creeping bipeds, but I have to perform the most vile and disgusting acts on them. Some of these include 69, Cleveland Steamers, scat eating, Snowballing, the use of all kinds of sick toys, the Dirty Sanchez, DP, ADP, and the most disgusting of all: Analingus. This vile act is most disgusting when having to do it on a nasty whore like Shitifa, who knows nothing about personal hygiene. That bitch has always got a crack full of cheddar cheese smelling chocolate pudding.

Depression

Last night I walked in on Da Crunk and that old fake preacher Curtis Lowe tag teaming my mother. As much as she has disappointed me lately, that woman is a saint. I attacked both of those fools and started laying a beating on Curtis. Da Crunk fell off the bed and knocked himself out on the nightstand. Just as I was setting Curtis up for the Salami Super Kick I felt someone grab me around the head and I went crashing to the floor. As I woke up from the blow I saw The Liberal Librarian hovering over my mother's chest and yelling "steam power!" I then blacked out. As much as I hate my master and this gang of fools, I'm starting to see some method to their madness.

Insomnia

Sometimes I pray to the Holy Mother and ask her what have I done so bad to deserve the pathetic life I live. I mean, yeah, I've been involved in some crime and I tried to rape that Amelia bitch last year, but, c'mon, I'm a pretty good guy. Usually, I have these feelings of hopelessness at night when I can't sleep. I have to lie awake at night and hear the creak and squeak of the bed and the moans of pleasure in the apartment above me. What makes it worse is that it's my mother and that scum bag, Da Crunk that lives above me. I have to hear that shit all night, every night!! And not just that, but the banging of the headboard!! It drives me crazy!

But that's not the worst. I share a bedroom with the sickest individual alive today- The Turd! That freak makes some of the sickest noises, gestures and motions during the night. He frequently gets up in front of a mirror and prances about, putting on his brown lipstick, rubbing his nipples and tucking himself- sick!!! He masturbates CONSTANTLY and he has phone sex with Retro and that Kelly guy nearly every night. When I do get to sleep, nearly every morning there is a steamer on my pillow from that sick freak. And every time I wake up, no matter if it's the middle of the night or whenever, that pervert is staring at me watching me sleep!!! And I am always losing things- things I think that freak is inserting in his anus!!! Sometimes I just want to end it all. The Liberal Librarian has decimated my life and I don't know that any amount of therapy could ever make me recover.

Shitifa's baby names list

Last night I had to pleasure that nasty whore, Shitifa. As I was doing one of the most vile and disgusting things to her that the pervert The Liberal Librarian taught me, I happened upon a list of baby names that Shitifa had ripped out of a library book (it was stamped "Property of Braddock County Public Library.") Here are the names.

KWANZOPHOBIA
FEMA TRAILA
CONGOLEUM
NOVA SQUASHA
MULBERITO
MAYTAG
ANOREXIQUANEESHA
BULIMIA-MOZAMBIQUA
NAIROBIA
WHISPERJET
SIERRALEONAY
FABREEZE
PERNICIOUS
VALTREX
SPERMATAZOA
VULVITIS
LAMINECTOMY
TENESMUS
PRILOSEXUAL
BONIVA
DIPLOPIA ALBICANS
YUKON DENALI
JAMBALAYA
DIARRHEUS
OBSEQUIATIVO
BISQUICK
DULCOLAX
FALLOPIA
CLOROX
AMBULANCIA
PROACTIVE SALUTIA
FALLUJAH
DIFLUCAN
ESCALADE
TACHYCARDIA
MISDEMEANOR

I think that stripper really liked me

August 2, 2007

I know what you're going to say when I tell you this, but I think that stripper down at The Kitty Kat Klub really liked me. The little red-haired one, Kandi. I don't know what it was, but we just seemed to have this... connection. From the moment I sat down, there was a powerful chemistry between us. I could tell by the way she looked me right in the eye. It was the kind of look that conveyed an understanding between a man and a woman. Eye contact can be a very primal thing. I could also tell she liked me by all the time she spent dancing in front of me. She could have done her splits and backbends facing any guy in the place, but she almost always did them facing me. And when she crawled up the brass pole, she usually used the one right near me. I know, I know. You're thinking she was just being nice to me for the tips. But it wasn't like that. You see, whenever she looked at me and smiled, I could sense it was a real human moment.

Kandi, she's not like the other girls at The Kitty Kat Klub. For one thing, she's obviously had formal dance training. More importantly, though, she's got a down-to-earth quality about her. A vulnerability, an innocence, almost. I think she could tell I really understood her. Kandi also really responded to the way I slipped her the money. Unlike some guys, who shove the cash right down the front of the G-string, I make a point of showing respect for the girls by tucking the bills in the side, near the hip. Believe me, the girls notice that. In case you still doubt there was something special between me and Kandi, let me tell you that when her stage show was over, she came over to my table. I was flattered, really, especially when she asked my name. I told her it was Tony. And you know what? She remembered. We must have talked for at least 20 minutes, and she used my name alot. She also winked at me a lot. Whenever I said something funny, she would just laugh and wink. It sounds strange, but she had a kind of shy quality about her. I think she's probably a very private person in her regular life, a very sweet and loving person, not like you usually think of strippers. At one point in our conversation, I told Kandi I didn't smoke or drink. She smiled, and her eyes got really big, and she said she didn't either. We really made a connection there. She said drinking is nasty and makes her feel unhealthy. I knew just what she meant. So many exotic dancers are into drugs or are problem drinkers, and it's nice to meet one who's concerned about her health like me.

Of course, it couldn't last. The management of The Kitty Kat Klub doesn't like deadbeats, and, somehow, I'd gone through all my money by about11 p.m. (that damn Liberal Librarian pays me jack shit at his queer bar and those freaks at BCPL are obvious skinflints). Kandi was really sad I had to go. She said she had to work all night, and she couldn't go out afterwards because she had to study (She's dancing to put herself through Med school). But she told me when she'd be dancing next and said I should come back and spend time with her whenever she's working. I can't wait until next Wednesday.