Bed Head

The Dutch horse has officially left. It's a sad state of affairs. If I only I could find a similar horse here. Sigh... But even worse than his departure is that he has permanently fucked up my hair. All his thrusting and grinding has created a permanent frizzy patch of hair on the back of my head. I have combed, shampooed, conditioned, and glazed my hair and yet there it is. I've heard of bed head but this is ridiculous. This is more like electrocution head.

In the end I suppose it was all worth it. I mean how many times do you meet a guy with a 10 inch dick and a tongue ring?

Taste This

I am in love with these 3 albums!!! I went to see Pete Yorn at the Apple Store (free show, holla!) this past Tuesday. AMAZING!!! I love Pete Yorn, but he’s always been more of a rainy day / melancholy musical choice for me. So clearly I would never think to see him in concert. But since the concert free and I’m a sucker for anything free I hightailed it over to Applelina. Unfortunately Pete did not fall madly in love with me, but he did put on a great show. In fact he was so good, I used my hookups to score some free tix at Webster Hall. I’m hooked!

SHUTUP

Is there any reason certain Puerto Ricans have the need to scream "Puerto Rico" and "boricua" throughout the train like escaped mental patients? Because the flag outfits, and the flag underwear, and the flags they're waving didn't give it away. yes we all KNOW you're Puerto Rican and guess what, no one cares!!!! Not to mention the heinosity of seeing fat chicks walking down the street in white spandex with their guts hanging out. It's enough to make me vomit. We all have our cultural parades.

Blood Stains

This believe it or not is a true story of yet another one of my many hookups. I really set a new standard with this one......

He started to go down on me. I began to wonder if he knew what a clitoris was.

“Did get your period?” he said.

OOPS. “Um, well I thought it was done.” The tricky about periods, for those of you who don’t know, is that sometimes it seems like it’s gone, when in reality, it’s just been hiding out.

“I went down on you.”

“Well it’s kind of hot in a fucked up way isn’t it? Like a vampire.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right. I’ll forgive you if you kiss me right now.”

Oh shit. I couldn’t very well say no after he made the ultimate sacrifice for my orgasmic pleasure, even if he was so-so. I leaned over and made out with him. I have to say I didn’t actually taste anything. Then I wondered could I get him to do it again? I was eager to test my powers of persuasion.

“Baby, that was soooooo good. Can you do it again?” I cooed.

“You want me to go down on you again???”

“Oh yeah. C'mon honey it was so hot.”

He went down on me like (to quote 50 cent) fat kid loves cake. Wow. Not only did I have guy accidentally go down on me while I was on the rag, I actually got him to do it again! My blood was in his mouth!! I have achieved a whole new level that even I didn’t think was possible.

As my friend and co-worker TK would say, that’s the power of the pussy.

As nice as it was that Tom went down on me while I was on the rag, he was still unaware in regards about the whereabouts of my clitoris, which was a MAJOR bummer. I mean it wasn't like this was a "Where's Waldo?" situation. It was pretty straightforward. But I had to give him an A for effort. We rolled over and lay there panting and sweaty. I had turned towards him when I noticed it.

“What is that?” I said pointing towards his arm.

“It’s a smurf.”

“It’s a what?!”

“A smurf.”

“Oh.” Whatever juice I had left had just dried.

Omigod I just fucked a guy with a smurf tattoo on his arm. And not just any smurf. AN evil smurf. It looked like it had been drawn on with the left hand by a retarded right-handed monkey. This guy had served in the army and could take out terrorists with a machine gun and he has a smurf tattoo? What next? Is Gargamel going to show up on his butt cheek?

“What made you get that?”

“It was my favorite cartoon when I was young.”

For Christ sake, my favorite cartoon was Jem and the Holograms but you wouldn’t see her pink haired ass on my arm.

Back to the power of the pussy. Unfortunately, the pussy was a little too powerful because I couldn’t get Tom to leave the next morning. I had been hoping as always for a quick exit on his part but it was not to be. I don’t understand why guys can’t just leave in the morning. Round 2 is only for boyfriends, not fuck buddies and one night stands.

Nonetheless I kind of did want to screw again, but I figured I shouldn’t be that easy. Besides I was hosting a Bollywood party later that evening to raise money for my adopted Indian orphan Kavita. I know everyone thinks Angelina Jolie was the first to make adopting poor brown orphans fashionable. But I started doing it way before it became trendy and Madonna got involved.

Tom was walking around naked. I had yet to see a man walk around so confidently in the buff. Especially one with an evil smurf tattoo.

“Come on baby you’re making me hard.”

I looked down, its true I was. He was at full attention. Just to make him shut up, I got on my hands and knees. The whole time I just kept thinking about poor Kavita. She’s sitting around in some shack in India depending on me, and here I am sucking cock. Besides I had samosas and pakoras (fried spinach balls) to prepare. From the freezer that is. Thank God for Little India / Jackson Heights. The plethora of cheap frozen Indian food would impress my cracker friends who don’t know any better and would prevent me from actually having to cook.

He grabbed the back of my head and started making out again while he reached down and finger popped me. Damn it, I was getting wet.

“Honey you’re getting wet. Let me help you with that.” He picked me up, threw me on the bed, and got on top of me, I made out with him for a bit, but I decided the best way out of this was another blow job. I flipped over and made my way south. I started going at it, until he started making those oh-so familiar moaning sounds.

Oh hell NO. This motherfucker was not going to come in my mouth. I sure as hell wasn’t getting herpes for him. For Johnny Depp definitely. Tom, no way.

“You are NOT coming in my mouth.”

“I’m not coming.”

“Yes you were. And if this is payback for going down on me when I was bleeding, you have another thing coming. Anyhoo I’ve really gotta get ready.”

I got up, much to Tom’s chagrin, and started to get ready. He begged and pleaded, but I ignored him and threw his pants at him.

“OK, honey but I’m taking you out next week.”

“OK, sure whatever.”

He finally left, thank goodness, and I was able to focus on Kavita and her benefit party. Unfortunately I found out later Kavita is not an orphan. Her family is just kind of poor. I felt betrayed. I want my adopted children to have no family except for me. I want them to be dirt fucking poor. Why would I want to help someone that was kind of poor? I felt kind of poor every time I went into Barneys and saw a pair of shoes I couldn’t afford.

For 11 seconds I pondered really going for it and adopting a child for real from Sally Struthers. But then I thought fuck it. I cut Kavita off and got a cactus instead.

Totally Fabulous

Forget plums. Eat Peaches.

Spray Me

One of my goals this summer besides hangliding, kayaking in the Hudson, and meeting a hot guy who’s good in bed and has a pair of balls, is to take this graffiti tour. Looks fun no??

brooklyn graffiti tour

Where Brooklyn at????

Robin and I were strolling along Bedford ave and stopped into Minimarket. Look at what we found. Fucking amazing.

Unfortunately the rings all came in one size, TOO BIG. So I couldn’t get one. BOO. Robin tried on some other rings, one of which got stuck and flew across the counter hitting the sales girl in the head. She wasn’t pleased. We, however, were laughing hysterically. It’s nice when you and your friends have the sense of humor of 10 year old boys.

www.minimarket.com