Monday, March 30, 2020

Tiger King Ep 3: The Secret



If you are like me, you are now on Episode 3 (or have completely watched it and are waiting for our take) and you have a minor case of whiplash from shaking your head back and forth with such fervor, because of all the no-no shit you have peeped in the first two episodes of this delicious shit show that has become our new normal. We also know, without a doubt that Thundercunt Carole killed Don. Again, do not @ me unless you have spent the last 20 days looking for Don's body, and you are ready to present your information to Cold Case Files. I am looking at you, Trebek (one of my best friends who lives for this shit, and I am pretty sure she is going to be the one to crack this case open faster than a dude bro on a White Claw at an EDM concert).

I saw the title from this show, The Secret and I was like, "What in the manifestation hell are we going to see now," because literally nothing is what the fuck you think it is on this show. Nothing. Up is down, day is night, black is white, drunk is sober, pants are good. Wait, no, pants are still fucking leg prisons and I hope Carole Baskins is sentenced to life wearing mom-jeans that are a 1/2 size too small, where that top button digs into the bottom of your belly button and you can't seem to get comfortable, ever. Ladies, I KNOW YOU KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I AM TALKING ABOUT. Also, it opens with Doc Antle speaking, and TBH, if I couldn't join the Joe Exotic cult first (because meth and big cats hellllllllllllllllllller) I would be so on that soul patch that Doc Antle wears, making his face look like a Krispy Kreme donut. Jussssssssst let your Souuuuuuuuuuuul (patch) Glow!

When I first started watching this, I noticed that Don has a type. I mean, we all have a type, but Don's kink is one I haven't really come across. And no, I am not kink-shaming. Even if your kink is not my kink, do you boo. Even if it means you die by the hands of Carole fucking Baskins get your freak on. Don's kink tho, is fundamental/evangelical Christian women. Also, not shaming Evangelicals/FCWs. I know quite a few and in no way could I see them falling for Don's BS. Or his "money." Because do we really know how much money he had? But if you look at Don's Baby Mama, or his kids, or his Sexetary Anne, he definitely likes him a woman with a well teased coif, dressed modestly, and subservient to him. However, it also appears that after he left them, they left that life behind. Then comes Carole Fucking Baskins.

I don't know what kind of Trampa Bay love story she is peddling, but she was "pacing like a cat,"  (thanks to our Tampa Fan Faithful who let us know that Nebraska Ave. is strictly for the ladies of the night - also, no shame there. Sex work is valid and we support it) and lo and behold here comes her 3rd rate Richard Gere, in his pick up, asking her to get in. He circles 3 times until he tells her she can get in and hold the gun on him because he needs to talk. I can't get a dude to call me his girlfriend and this bitch gets to hold a gun on some dude and they "talk." Fuck. Outta. Here. And let me back Don's pick up truck real quick, and revisit Carole's original story - She was fighting with her cusband (I swear to G that is what I heard) and she had to throw a potato at him to get a way. Again. Fuck. Outta. Here. She was on the hoe stroll, simple as that.

So she meets this dude, who carries a $500 bill in his pocket because he can (worst flex ever, IMO) and Carole 'I didn't know how poor we were" Baskins coos "hey all you cool cats and kittens' and Don's life is changed forever. Much like me and this goddamn show. Little did he know he was meeting his maker. Poor fucking Don. He just wanted a little here kitty kitty, and he ended up with the bitch that would be the death of him. Literally.

For those of you out there defending Carole Fucking Baskins, if you really watch this shit show and when they say the bought 52 cats in one pop, you know she ain't right. She was buying, selling, and breeding these things like she was the madam of a whore house, if your whores were cats. And when she said she was having them spayed and neutered while he was in Costa Rica, fucking his actual side piece, she was really neutering the part of her that could feel human emotions and make her a non-stop killing machine.

I think my heart breaks the most when Don's daughter calls him a sexaholic. Not a sex addict but a SEXAHOLIC. SEXAHOLIC. SEXAHOLIC. OK, my heart doesn't break, because I can't get over her calling her dad a SEXAHOLIC. He is rolling over in his grave or onto his Costa Rican Cutie with that shit. And I am laughing at his old ass Tina Belcher looking kid calling him a S E X A H O L I C.

Without giving too much away, and clouding your judgment, unless you are a fucktard and believe Carole Fucking Baskins is innocent, I will say this:

Don is actually alive in Costa Rica, laughing his head off at all this fuckery and probably pulling out some teeth to plant on the property that will help identify his body and cage that fucking cunt Carole, once and for all. And then he is going to run away with Anne, whom he has been really pining for his whole life, and be in some kind of awesome Costa Rican Thrupple. Now, that is the sequel I want to see.

And because I love you and want you to be happy, here is "Here Kitty Kitty" Joe's song about Carole killing her husband. And it is everything you want and need it to be.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uz_LZJCSwU4


See ya for Ep 5, all you cool cats and kittens

H-Bomb

Sunday, March 29, 2020

Tiger King Ep 2: Big Cats, No Limbs, Polygamy OH MY!




What in the actual fuck have we gotten ourselves into with Episode 2, y'all?! Right out the fucking gate, Kelci, better known as "Saff", got her motherfucking arm eating off by a goddamn tiger. A FUCKING TIGER. YOU KNOW, THAT SHIT YOU SEE ON ANIMAL PLANET FROM TIME TO TIME...AND ARE LIKE, "THAT'S A BIG MOTHERFUCKING CAT."

First off, who has enough balls to put their arm through a fucking fence with a tiger chillin' on the other side?! Apparently this bad ass bitch. The craziest part was that she just laid there all calm and shit like she sprained an ankle.

The Tiger King comes to the rescue, wraps her no arm having ass up, and gets her ass to the hospital. Big ups to this motherfucker throwing on an EMT jacket, btw. Massive flex if you ask me.

I don't know what the fuck is in the water out there in Wynnewood, OK, but this bitch "Saff" went to work 5 days after getting her fucking arm amputated. Now, if that shit don't deserve a goddamn raise and promotion to CEO or whatever the fuck the rank is there, then I don't know what the fuck to say. Moving on...

Episode 2 gave us a glimpse into all these fools lives. Let's do the breakdown, shall we?

Joe Exotic - not much screen time on this episode. However, the more and more I looked at this dude, I realized if you mixed crystal meth and a can of Hamm's, this dude would form. And is it me, or Joe can make a music video of just about anything and think it's actually MTV worthy? Let's not forget about this dude and his two boyfriends - John Finlay and Travis. Hey John, meth is a helluva drug, bruh. This dude's teeth are so bad, that they've been practicing social distancing for years. The guy sucks dick ONE TIME and all of the sudden he's gay. Wait, what?! LOL. Moving on to Joe's other man Travis. This poor fucking kid is lost as fuck. Moves from Southern California to Oklahoma and one of the first thing he says is that he has big hands and big ass feet. Can you imagine the foot jobs he be giving Joe at night while he gets his stink ring tickled? Polygamy at its finest, folks!

Carole Baskin - I tried giving this bitch a chance and you know what? She is a cunt. And I swear to Jesus the Gardner, if I have to hear "Hey there all you cool cats and kittens" one more motherfucking time, I might happily volunteer and get run over by a goddamn bus while getting hit by every car along the way. Everything about her is suspect. From her "intern" program and making her staff work around the clock to the end of this episode where all of the sudden, her millionaire husband goes missing. We know you ain't right, Carole. We see right through your Kabala looking ass. Namaste, bitch.

Howard Baskin - all I have to say is that this dude looks like a priest who plays with little boys weiners. Next.

Rick Kirkham - if a cigarette and cigar had a kid, it would be this motherfucker. You know this dude never met a smoke he didn't like. For real though, he's probably the most sane dude on the show. Why he decided to produce Joe's stuff? It's because like us, he loves watching a train wreck you can't turn away from. Rick be looking puzzled every time he fucking talks.

Bhagavan "Doc" Antle - Doc is a mix between a 70's porn star, R. Kelly, Indiana Jones and a dad that wears Crocs with jean shorts and a white polo. This fool is a doctor of Mystical Science. I wish I was fucking lying. First of all, what in the actual fuck is that?! Mystical Science?! Motherfucker, you kick it with Harry Potter or something? GTFOH!!! Mystical Science my ass. The only thing mystical is your 3 wives titties. Which brings me to my next observation...this guy rolls like Joe and has 3 chicks by his side. I mean, his nickname is "Lord" and apparently, he digs chicks that are pretty much virgins. Instead of "Lord", we need to call this dude "The Virgin Surgeon".  Doc has so much pull that he even changes his chicks names. "Hey Lisa, your name is now Taint Goblin"...shit like that. Like Joe, he hates Carole. Basically, every motherfucker hates Carole. She'll probably read this column then ask to speak to the manager after.

Mario Tabraue - I'm not even joking when I say this but, he's the goddamn Scarface of the big cat world. Used to be a big time drug dealer, chopped some motherfuckers up, got caught slippin' and served his time. Now, he runs his own shit and has a bunch of exotic animals and like Joe and Doc, has a zoo. One that he calls "dummy proof". I'm gonna go out on a limb and say he probably still deals drugs since he does after all have a high security and guarded property...like who you ask? Scarface, motherfuckers! DO NOT MESS WITH THIS MAN. If anyone should be afraid of anyone, it's this dude.

How will Episode 3 turn out? This is the train wreck that we can't turn away from, people. Especially since this episode ended with Carole's millionaire husband missing. Shit is about to get really fucking real if you ask me!

Until then...peace the fuck out!

J-Wun




Saturday, March 28, 2020

Tiger King Ep 1: The Hero We Didn't Need; The Hero We Deserved



Picture it: South Florida, March 2020. You are quarantined in your house, like a proverbial caged lion. You flip on Netflix, because why the fuck not, and all at once you feel hot, flushed, you're  breathing heavy, you can feel your eyes dilate. You know something BIG is happening, and you can't quite put your finger on it. You are high, but you aren't on actual drugs (ok, maybe some of us, but not like this). You are on this new shit, you are on TIGER KING.

If you are one of the few people who hasn't watched this show, I don't know what to tell you. This is what people call a goddamn cultural phenomenon. I have seen thousands of memes about this fuckery, and I am not even sick of them. I want more. I now get why those fuckers on Tiger King are addicted to meth. I am addicted to this show. And after that first hit, I knew it was going to be dangerous for me; I couldn't binge it all at once. I watched the first episode, and let it set the stage. I let it lovingly caress my synapses, with its mullets and toothless, shirtless, delights. I let the afterglow of knowing that I was going to go down this glorious, deep, dark well of polygamy wash over me. I stopped after one episode knowing that I would never be the same. And I was here for it.

Now, let me really set the stage for my first hit. The Silver Fox Fuck Boy and I had enjoyed some breakfast bourbon (it's bourbon in coffee, but ya know, we got keep it classy at 7:30 am) and are chilling on the couch, we flip on Netflix and the teaser for this show comes and and he asked me if I want to watch it. The above picture is the screen shot I took, because I wanted to remember the moment I knew, there is no going back after this. I am a Florida born and raised, lover of all things white trash, mullet aficionado, trailer fabulous, woman. This shit speaks to me on a cellular level. But NEVER have I ever born witness to what I saw in just the first episode of this show. I am going to try not to give spoilers away, but considering the internet is the internet and we are all cooped the fuck up, trying not to go Joe Exotic on our own Carole, it is what it fucking is here.

Speaking of Carole, imma say this right meow: Carole is a cunt and she killed her 1st husband. Don't @ me. And I know her from somewhere, I can't place my finger on it, but I know her. Also, I hated her immediately when she started talking. And what the fuck is with that one weird strand of hair that she has draped over the rest of her hair sometimes. Also, is anyone else having nightmares of Carole saying, "Hey all you cool cats and kittens!" Because when I hear her talk, I want to get in one of the cages with the cats and let them tear me from limb to limb.

The first episode watches like Stefan from Saturday Night Live is describing one of his fucked up clubs and then you realize this is the one that actually exists. This club is called "Methed Up" and you  giggle, cus you don't know if it is a den for drugs, or people reading Mike Tyson's lispy words. And then all of a sudden, you are in it, hanging on these people's every word, from Doc Antle, to that thundercunt Carole, to that sweet toothless man John, to the completely fucking bonkers Joe. You are transfixed. You, are like me, living in two worlds: the time before Tiger King and the time after Tiger King. It has been 6 days since I started watching this show and 3 since I finished it and I have started watching it again so that J-Wunder (I can't even bring myself to call him Wundercunt, because it sounds too much like Thundercunt and that is a name solely reserved for Carole. Cus she murdered her husband) and I can do an episode by episode synopsis. This episode gives you just enough of a taste of the good, good stuff, and before you know it, you are counting the minutes while you work from home, before you can sashay yo ass over to the couch and get your fix.

I do have one question about all of this - did Netflix know what the fuck they were about to unleash upon the world with this? I saw an article someone wrote saying that this was the next big binge, on 03/19/2020, and a week later, WHOOMP HERE IT IS. Did Netflix know that we would be balls deep in quarantine and chill, and people were gonna be about ready to fuck shit up because every time someone mentioned the word Corona Virus, you could only here Cardi B saying KKAAAAAAAARAHHHHHHHHHNAVIRUS? Did Netflix take one look at our barren, wasteland grocery stores, and think, "You know what these crazy, hoarding motherfuckers, need? Gay Polygamist Drug Addict Big Cat Zoo Keepers!"

And they were absolutely fucking right. Either this is end of days, or how we will heal from all of this Corona madness. My prediction - when this is all over, Joe gets out of jail and finally becomes President. Sorry, not sorry, for the spoilers.

Ok, hold up. 2 questions - was this the Tiger Blood Charlie Sheen was talking about? Is he some kind of Coke addled prophet? Is he our new messiah. Shit, no more breakfast bourbon and writing.

Meow,
H-Bomb
#LoveInTheTimeOfCorona


Thursday, February 27, 2020

Boys Don't Deserve Names



At some point in my generation, girls became women and we said enough is enough. Enough of boys dragging us through the dirt only for us to help them every step of the way. Enough of us trying to read signs and decode secret messages when he was just “playing it cool.” Enough of being stood up and ignored and ENOUGH BAD SEX. It was time we started playing the game as well.

The Game
What is the game you may ask? Let me explain with a short story.

Girl meets guy. Guy meets girl. They like each other. But they don't want each other to know that they like each other. So both of them will simultaneously try to make the other think that they don't like them. Such things as blowing each other off, ignoring each other, and talking to other people are common occurrences. These patterns will usually continue until one person says "fuck it" and decides to cut all ties with the other, also known as "ghosting." And because the other person does not want that person to think that they care that they're being "ghosted", they reciprocate the "ghosting"  in which neither party will ever speak again. The end.

This seems to be a general theme within our generation. HOWEVER, I think us goddesses have evolved even further (per usual) and have learned to really play guys like the back of our hand. So much so that most of the time we don’t even dane to call them by their real names. Thus, begins my series of boys who do not deserve names.

Italian Boy 
Ahhh to be young and naive in San Francisco again. And by young and naive, I mean 5 months ago before I learned how dating in a big city works (I’m 22 for reference). Meet, Italian Boy. My first lover in the golden city. Before I became completely engrossed in the dating app scene (we’ll get into this later), I actually met this guy in real life. Ok, so, it was in a club. BUT STILL. Maybe we didn’t meet in a grocery store between the peas and carrots, but at least technology wasn’t involved. It was a pretty typical occurrence. We caught eyes. I stared. He stared. We made out. He grabbed my butt. I got tired and ditched him to get burritos. However, he did get my number which is how this whole rendezvous got started.

Like most guys do, he began by trying to woo me. We went out to drinks. I met his friends. We went back to his place. We drank wine. He cooked us risotto. It was orgasmic...

He then continued to tell me why everything is better when it’s Italian. Italian wine. Italian food. Italian people. Oh, did I mention he was Italian? We then had passionate, great sex (although I didn’t orgasm, so was it really?) and I went on my merry way.

Over the next two weeks we hung out a few times. Saturday brunch. Drinks at his place. I started dirty texting him for the first time in my life ever (OMG), but eventually the texts became less frequent and I found myself asking him to hang out way more than he way asking me. So I asked him what his deal was and he said “I want to spend more time with my friends and not have a serious relationship right now.” Typical. So, I cut all ties only to text him a few weeks later that we should still see each other, but only in the most casual capacity, if you get my drift.

He agreed, but now I had the power. Over the next few weeks, I continued to ignore most of his texts except once or twice for when I occasionally gave in. HOWEVER, he started hitting me with the “you never respond ;),” “did you fall asleep last night,” and my favorite, “we should actually plan a time to hang out instead of leaving it up to chance.”

LIKE WHAT DO YOU THINK I WAS DOING WHEN WE FIRST MET?!!?! Bye bitch.

I still text this guy every once in a while but this is just to prove that men want you to be all over them until you actually are and then they want something else. Mic drop. Thank you, next.

TV Guy
Awww TV guy. Sad this one didn’t work out. Would have loved being a sports reporter wife and fucking all the players behind his back. Just kidding but…hahaha. This was the first 30 plus guy I fucked in the city (don’t judge). It started out normal (as they always do). Saturday Breakfast. I was extremely hungover for this and had to go to work after UHG. Drinks and dinner. Sex at his place.

Before things started to heat up, I came to find he likes to talk dirty, and by likes to talk dirty I mean REALLLLLYY likes to talk dirty. Here I was, second time meeting this guy, as he’s whispering in my ear that he wants to french kiss my pussy instead of my mouth. It was obviously a red flag, but I was horny so whatever. We went to his room and started messing around until I asked him to grab a condom. Of which he has the most typical response ever that he can’t get hard with a condom, which I know is actually a thing but guys are such babies about it. Anyways, I tell him to try since I’m not having unprotected sex with a practical stranger (even though I have and probably still will occasionally, no judgment here). And we end the night with mediocre, half hard, half soft sex while he repeats things like “you like that?” and “is that big enough for you.” Sigh. Boys are idiots.

So what happened after that? I’ll give you one guess.

Boo.

Finance Guy 
We’ve all had a finance guy in our life. Those VC’s you assume are rich but you have no idea what they actually do or how much they actually make. He was 30 again  (I know I’m predictable). I’ve been told it’s because I’m mature, but LOL AM I??? Anyways. This guy was pretty granola. He had a great bod and could hold a conversation, but I can’t seem to recall one personality trait I really liked about him. He also religiously used condoms and was wayyyyy too into missionary.

However, this was the first guy I ever tried butt stuff with, and he liked when I gave him a little butt attention as well. WAIT DID SHE JUST SAY BUTT STUFF?!!? GUYS LIKE BUTT STUFF??!!? Yes they do, and not just giving but receiving (no, not a dildo up the ass but let's just say my fingers lingered a little past the balls). I’m not sure when the butthole became such sacred territory. Vaginas literally bleed every month, but for some reason people freak out that shit comes out of the asshole. I really don’t get it. It’s also soooo cliche that butt stuff is soooo sexy when it comes to a guy doing it to a girl, but the second you bring attention to it for guys they all become little bitch boys and freak out. Whatever.

This relationship ended in a somewhat cringeworthy fashion with the condom ending up inside of me, and him having to buy me plan B. After which, neither of us spoke again. That’s one way to break it off with a boy lol.

Crutch Wrap Supreme 
Look!!! An age appropriate guy!!! He’s 25!!! Too bad I named him after a Taco Bell menu item. This guy was a friend of a friend of a friend. We were all hanging out at my friend’s place when all these boys came over. One of them I kind of knew, and he proceeded to express his love to me throughout the night, and I was kind of into it. BUT. HIS FRIEND. Started making moves on me, and I didn’t really know what to do at first. Because MY friend didn’t make any moves, I started canoodling with HIS friend and we started making out at the bar. Confused? Same.

OH. I forgot to tell you he was on crutches this whole time, hence the name.

Anyways. I was actually making out with him in a bar right next to Finance Guy’s place and was texting finance guy throughout the night. Because I started freaking out that I might run into them both at the same time, I decided to ditch Crutch Wrap Supreme and meet Finance Guy near his place. HOWEVER, as I left the bar Crutch Wrap Supreme was at and walked over to where I was going to meet Finance guy, these foreign dudes (maybe Italian) started talking to my friend and I. We (mostly me) took a few drags of their cigarettes as we chatted with them. AND THEN, CRUTCH WRAP SUPREME shows up at the place I was supposed to meet FINANCE GUY. I end up having to practice my ninja skills by running past Finance Guy, tapping his shoulder, and skipping around the corner, so he sees me, follows me, and gets out of the viewpoint of Crutch Wrap Supreme.

And that was the last I saw of Crutch Wrap Supreme. He had my number, and we texted back and forth a couple times, but he never followed up on his proposal to grab dinner.

I wonder why? hahaha

Philosopher Boy
I interrupt this program to bring you some actual wholesome content. I promise you I’m not a cold, hard bitch all the time. This is a prime example of those guys that are perfect. Meaning they check off all the boyfriend qualifications like taking you to fancy dinners, introducing you to their friends, listening to your rants, and genuinely just being a great person. BUT FOR SOME STUPID FUCKING REASON YOU JUST DON’T FUCKING LIKE THEM GOD DAMMIT.

Philosopher boy was great. He took me to restaurants with tasting menus. He surprised me with fun dates. He was a great kisser. He went to Princeton and could hold a great conversation, but he just wasn’t the one *sigh*. My friend and I even hung out with him together once and she told me she could tell I wasn’t into him. As hard as I tried, you just can’t force connection. And so I ended up having to break up with a guy I wasn’t actually in a relationship with but was so nice that I couldn’t just ghost him. After getting some input from my peers we crafted the perfect break up text that I’m just going to leave here in case anyone else ends up in this situation.

The Break Up Text
“Hey, I’ve been thinking, and I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with you, but I don’t feel the connection I’m looking for. I just want to be upfront and honest about my feelings and don’t want to lead you on...you’re such a great guy but just not the one for me.”

Barf. At least it’s not the “It’s not you, it’s me” bullshit.

Frisky Boy 
Get ready for some juicy shit. Ok, where do I even begin? This all started on Hinge when some boy wanted to test my friskiness via text. I ended up texting him and not really giving him much to work on because let’s face it, I had never met him before. He then ended up not responding to me for about a week, of which I responded by sending him, a complete stranger, a semi-nude because 1. I felt like it and 2. I honestly just wanted the attention. For reference, it was a photo of my bare legs with my panties at my ankles and my hand looking as if I was going to feel myself…oh so sexy. This completely surprised him and jump started our frisky connection. It turns out, he was one kinky motherfucker, and we started dirty texting like no other. I am very new to the dirty texting world, and he completely opened my eyes. He would tell me things like how he wanted to fold me over his table, tie me up and fuck me slowly in the ass. He would ask me for nudes at work, and I would dutifully take them in the bathroom stalls. I loveddd when he told me what to do which is very new to me since I HATE when people tell me what to do in real life. I guess giving up control was a sense of relief for me.

HOWEVER, although I loved doing what he wanted, I didn’t lose sight of the fact that he thought he was some real. hot. shit. He lovvveeeeeddd playing the “busy” card and the “I’m so important I can’t text you back” card. So. Naturally. I had to fuck with him a little.

The first time he ignored me for a full night, he had specifically told me to text him later and see if we could hang out. I texted him and he simply did not respond. We were supposed to hang out the next day, so I let him know in the morning, “If you think we’re hanging out tonight, you’d be wrong.”

He apologized and blubbered and shit, but that’s when I realized I had to play this guy in order to come out on top.

Next time he ignored me for a full day, I followed up with a text saying, “getting ready for a date tonight, is this cute?” and a pic of me in my sexy, black underwear. He responded within seconds. This just further proved my point he was trying to play games. Mind you, this was a 33 year old man. You’d think they'd get better. They don’t. He ended up trying to be mean at first by saying “Very cute. Are you excited?” But then followed up with “I like that you’re trying to make me jealous.” This then started our convo on how he wanted to know the type of guys I was dating, and who I had hooked up with in the past. I sent him pictures of the guys and told him how far I had gone with them. Like I said, kinky motherfucker.

He, AGAIN, was not giving me enough attention one day so I hit him with the “just so you know, I will be fantasying about you fucking me with another girl tonight.” He, again, immediately responded (so, so predictable) with a million questions of whether or not I’ve done that before and if I actually wanted to.

I told him I was curious about it (which I was), and he proceeded to tell me about the French, Vietnamese model he used to date who was really into women. We then ended up starting a group message with Frisky Boy, Hot Model Girl, and me, and we all started dirty texting each other and getting flirty. I was really down to make this happen.

HOWEVER, Frisky Boy did as Frisky Boy does, and ignored me again for the last time. I ended up confronting him about it of which he didn’t respond to me AGAIN. And so, I followed up with a “Goodbye forever :)” text and blocked him on everything. It may seem dramatic but he should be graveling at my feet for what I was about to do for him. I did recently follow Hot Model Girl on Instagram though, so maybe something fun will actually come out of this after all.

Hot Model Girl
I can’t say  too much about Hot Model Girl yet, but she DID follow me back on Instagram and we exchanged a few DMs. Nothing has happened yet, but I’ve realized I’m open to the idea of girl on girl. Who knew?

Boy I Actually Liked
Time for the grande finale. I thought I would end this series by getting a little vulnerable with you guys. It’s all fun and games when you’re talking about sex and fuck boys, but there’s some real shit I have to address as well.

There was this guy. We’re just going to call him just Guy for lengthy purposes. He was actually my roommate for a few months along with 6 of my other friends. We also were co-workers in the same department (oh, so spicy).

It started out fairly innocent. We’d flirt. Go to the gym together. Get lunch together. I had a bad day, he bought me chocolate. He’d photoshop my face onto fish. You know, the normal stuff. I was actually really into him (although I denied it constantly, and still deny it lol). I know I was into him because he annoyed the shit out of me. Why is it that the guys I actually like are usually the ones I can’t stand to be around?

I think it might have been because he really knew me. Most of these guys I talk about think I’m hot and pretty. Some of them think I’m smart or quirky, but none of them really see me. They don’t know what makes me tick or what drives me. Guy knew. And I knew it about him as well.

Looks wise, he was a dreamboat, tall, blonde, brown eyed and a little scruffy. He was one of those super passionate, artsy types which I am too, but in a different way. If he has an idea he HAS to make it happen and won’t really listen to other’s opinions about it. I guess I’m almost jealous of him in that way (almost). I, on the other hand, LOVE hearing what people have to say and analyzing it until I find the most probable outcome (I know, I’m such a nerd). I like creating art but I want to create collective visions, not just my own. Anyways, as you can imagine, us working together caused us to…butt heads. Then, having to live together only made things worse.

I kind of wish things had worked out differently. I actually think if we had met five years later I would have fallen in love with him. We’re still friends, so maybe that will be a new chapter down the line.

Although I’m definitely all over the place when it comes to guys (and maybe girls? lol), I think there’s still hope for me in finding love and I can’t wait to experience it all.

Xoxo,
Girl Without A Name

Thursday, October 3, 2019

Advice Column: The Grass Has Better Dick On The Other Side



J fucking Wunder,

I gotta question I need your sexy ass help in answering.

I'm a 50yr old female,good lookin' (i think) and recently separated from an 25 yr old marriage. Yes my soon to be ex is a major DOUCHE. 

My question is about sex. While married to my ex, sex was ok. Every once in a while it would be better than ok, but never great,and yes I treated it like gold, cuz he only got it once a week,  I might add.

Recently I've been letting a 40 yr. old married man hit my shit about 3-4 times a week. If I could FUCK him everyday, every morning, noon and night I would. This man does it so good, my toes curl just thinking about fuckin' him, my panties fall to the ground just hearing his voice. Serious talk, if I know in the morning, I'm gonna get fucked by him in the evening, I AM WET ALL FUCKIN' DAY...Like a water slide, no lie...

I like to be fucked by #1 so much, I've let him do all kinds of "first times" to me. Things I would NEVER had let my ex do.

 I'm driving my guy and girlfriends crazy with my behavior. See they know me as pretty independent, smart, confident woman and they don't get why I would let #1 control me like he does. And by control I don't mean like crazy control freak shit, I'm mean if he calls, I'm droppin' everything to meet him in a parking lot and give him the best blow job ever because that's what my #1 wants.

So here's my question: Who's really in control? Him because he can say "I'll be over in 10 minutes" and my answer is "what do you want me wearing, baby" and  whatever he says, you bet your sweet ass, he'll get it.

Or me, because by keepin' #1 happy I'm having FABU-FUCKIN'-LOUS sex???

Sincerely,
Slip 'N Slide



Dear Slip 'N Slide,

The first time I jerked off, I was a Freshman in high school. No lie. I was chillin’ at my boy, Saul’s house, and I was introduced to the art of “choking my chicken”. I had no clue what the fuck it was about, all I was told was to take the Big Gulp I just got done pounding, take it to the bathroom, rub some of his sister’s strawberry melon lotion on my wang and start yanking my shit til “I felt the volcano erupt”. Those were his exact fucking words too. “Bro, stroke your dick til you feel the volcano unleash from your body. Make sure you point in the cup. I don’t want you fucking up my mom's towels. They’re from Mexico and she’ll kill me if you get them crusty.” True story.

I went into his Mexican decorated ass bathroom with every candle of Mary fucking Magdalene and Jesus staring at me and went to town on my ding-a-fucking-ling. Hard as a pound puppy and lubed up like a whore’s mouth in a 10-man gangbang, I was feeling a sensation that I never thought I would ever feel. With every goddamn stroke, I was feeling this tingle. A tingle so fucking exhilarating that I felt like I was going to explode. Then it happened…

KA-BOO-YA-BLAM-O ALL UP IN THE HIZ-OUSE!!!! (y'all just took a deep ass breath, huh?)

My little ass pecker was like a motherfucking fire hose squirting everywhere. It felt so goddamn good that I forgot to aim IN the cup and came ALL OVER THE GODDAMN PLACE. There was jizz all over my buddies mom’s towels from Tijuana...some more baby gravy on the sink…hell, I even came all over the Mary Magadalene and Jesus candles. And you know what? IT FELT MOTHERFUCKING WONDERFUL. Not that I came all over Jesus and Mary, but that I actually came like an elephant taking a piss at the zoo (if you've never seen an elephant take a piss, you need to watch that shit. It's motherfucking mesmerizing). And you know what happened from that day forth? I jerked off every fucking day. Three times a day. FOR YEARS. I was a goddamn functioning jerker off-er. Didn’t matter if I had sex with some broad, I still did my jerk off ritual like it was the very first time (minus the religious candles, Mexican towels and a 64 ounce Big Gulp). Just saying.

I wasn't addicted to jerking off. I was addicted to busting a nut. I became a monster. The hand fucking version of the Incredible Hulk. Don't get it twisted though, I wasn't a goddamn perv jerking off in every place I could. Just the usual spots - bathroom, shower, bedroom, high school locker room (before basketball games, of course), girlfriend's mom's bedroom. Wait, what? What was I saying again? Oh yeah...I was a masturbating monster that couldn't stop. Because honestly, I didn't want to. The feeling was just too damn motherfucking good. I had every excuse to yank my pole. Headache? I'm jerking off. Stressed? That's right...I'm playing tug-n-pull. Happy? You bet your sweet ass I was making it rain 1 million children. Sad? Sympathy masturbation. Angry? Hate fucking...my hand. You get the picture.

The point I'm trying to make here Slip 'n Slide Magee is that if you experience something so great that you want that feeling over and over and over again, you're gonna keep doing it. Why? Because you've never felt something so amazing like that before. In your case...25 goddamn years. That's a long fucking time to never feel something so good, you come back for more. Ya feel me?

You fucking Jack Hammer Johnson is like the first time I masturbated in my buddies bathroom...it's a feeling that can't be explained to those who never experienced such a fucking thing. Sure there may be a debate from your friends that "sex ain't that good to just leave your peeps at the drop of a hat." Fuck yeah it is...you just haven't experienced it yet. Good sex is a hard thing to find believe it or not. I mean, if you can stay wet for 8-12 hours, this dude must be doing something right or you're just a goddamn whore looking for cock that is willing to fuck you after 25 years of your pussy being famished. The flood gates have finally opened in the Sahara.

Keep doing what you're doing because in the end, it's gonna go down one of two ways:

1) You're gonna keep fucking Jack Hammer Johnson because it really is THAT good.

OR

2) You're gonna realize you're really bored and you just got excited because you had new cock after 25 years of being miserable...so you decide to become a whore and fuck a rainbow of cocks instead of just one.

Oh, and as for who's in control of your fuck fest situation? No one is...because did you ever realize that maybe, just maybe Jack Hammer Johnson fucks you good because he hasn't had pussy in 25 years too?


I'll let you fuck me...for 2 dollars,

J-Wunder

Wednesday, October 2, 2019

Oh, You're Offended? Sorry, Not Sorry.





What the fuck is up with sensitive ass motherfuckers these days? Like, for reals.

You know people, I've been blogging for almost 9-10 years now, along with running a fan page for Facebook, Instagram and Twitter for a hot minute. The entertainment I want to give is endless at times!

And for those that follow me, y'all know I LOVE it! Shit gives me a chubby at least 4 days a week, 3 times a fucking day. And for someone who writes for fun and post pics for entertainment, my main goal is to ALWAYS make sure I can at least make one of you motherfuckers laugh. Doing so not only reminds me that I did my job BUT, made someone's fucking day...especially after dealing with a shitty one. Laughter is the best medicine. Can I get an AMEN?!

Someone like myself who doesn't take social networking to the extreme, the one thing I gotta say is that some cats take this shit like it's life or death. Truth.

For example, on my Facebook Fan Page, I have close to 250K followers. Some have been with me since the very beginning. Some fans are fairly new and digging the fuck out of what I post. And THEN, there are some (like 2%) who are clueless as fuck and need to hit that "UNLIKE" button...like, immediately. It's that certain small percentage that is wrong with our goddamn society. It's all fun and games until YOU dislike something and act as if it's the end of the fucking world. SMH.

I have NEVER understood people who like a page, love everything about it UNTIL they see a post they don't like or agree with, then get all offended and shit bc someone had to post something you didn't agree with. You for real, motherfucker? Stop bullshittin'.

How in the living fuck could you like a page and be offended by what is posted? You realize the page you're on, motherfucker?! That's like me hiring a hooker and giving her hand shakes and high fives and not fucking or getting a reach-around...it makes no goddamn sense. If you're so offended and acting like a little bitch, why say anything? Does it bug you THAT much that it ruins your day? Because guess what? It's the fucking Internet, asshole. You know what I do if I follow something that I don't like? I don't respond bc it's either 1) Not funny, 2) Not my thing or 3) So stupid that it really isn't worth my time, a "Like" or better yet, a fucking response.

I never understood these motherfuckers. They laugh and "LIKE" all the shit someone post, but as soon as something is posted that they're guilty of or isn't to their liking...oh shit...watch out! We got a bad ass over here who is mad as fuck, y'all!

GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE WITH THAT SHIT!

You serious right now? That's like going to Pornhub.com and expecting to see some Christian Mingle shit, people.

Here's an idea: go to Home Depot and buy yourself a shit ton of wood, build a bridge then get the fuck over yourself.

Some of you Internet lovers who have nothing better to do need to lighten the fuck up and find something better to do with your goddamn time. Like maybe find a fucking job or figure out who the fuck your baby daddy is. Straight up. Hobbies are nice too.

Too many times (lucky for me, not much on my pages), I see this shit happening. Sensitive ass bitches crying about jokes. You that upset, fuckmouth? Realize, you tripping over nothing not only makes you look like a fool, but the biggest Monkey Mouth Bitch for FOLLOWING the person you're hating on. That's called "Trolling" for you folks behind the times.

It's the Internet, people. For fucks sake, your life isn't at fucking risk. You think you're that fucking special that people and their pics or post should cater to you? Fuck that! Welcome to the world of jokes and real world shit that a majority of people don't talk about but are thinking.

It boggles my degenerate fucking mind that instead of worrying about shit that happens in our daily lives, more people are worried about what the "Suck My Dick, You Cock Sucking Whore" fan page posted last week at 5:10pm. You've been a fan since 2014, motherfucker. What the fuck do you think was going to be posted on a page that has the phrase, "Cock Sucking Whore"? Jesus Christ cumming on a fucking cracker. Wake the fuck up!!!!

I know I sound like a broken record but c'mon, fam...why do some of y'all take shit to the Nth degree? It's the Internet. If you don't like shit, then ignore it. Turn the other fucking cheek. Go to the gym. Post a selfie. No one gives two fucks why you're offended...especially if you're guilty of being a fan. Do you hear me knocking? Then let me in, bitch!

Chill out and lighten the fuck up. There's more shit to worry about than you being offended about meaningless fucking shit. Unless your ass is the Pope, calm the fuck down, motherfucker. Everyone got jokes. It's just that sometimes, not everyone is gonna see eye to eye. And you know what?

That's alright.

No go in peace and offend somebody.

Tuesday, October 1, 2019

Advice Column: Men Have A Cock For A Reason



Dear J-Wunder,

Lately I've noticed this fag bag of a friend and his pathetic ass posts on Facebook. I need to get your take on this because I'm not sure if I want to kick this guys ass or throw him into a pit of fire. Every day he cries like a little bitch..."You don't know what you got til it's gone..." "Time to get my mind off things..." "Love takes time to heal..." Is this dude fucking serious? It seems like he wants people to posts comments just so he feels like he's getting the attention he is looking for. 

I love my friend, but fuck...I can't take this shit anymore. What's the deal? 
Your REAL advice is needed. 

Sincerely,
Men Have a Cock for a Reason



Dear Men Have A Cock for a Reason,

I couldn’t agree with you more…a dude's wang is just about his only redeeming quality. Oh wait, that’s not what you were getting at huh? Sorry, I got sidetracked for a quick second.

Look, I think your friend is just looking for some fucking sympathy. What a sad, sad sack of shit...casting out his hook – baited with vague tales of woe – in the hopes of landing some concerned responses by a bunch of gullible ass people. Genuine bad news is one thing, but these manipulative posts are just pleas for fucking attention. This though, is about the worst case I’ve ever come across. We all have friends that didn’t get hugged enough as a child and use Facebook as their crying wall...but this motherfucker takes the goddamn cake. Two words: Man-Gina.

If you’re wondering, no, you shouldn’t punch this ass-clown in the face. Maybe, unfriend him if you can’t handle it. I know it's tough reading your News Feed with all his silly-sack-of-shit heartbroken posts, but unfriending him in the "social networking" world might save you from finding the urge of running this motherfucker over with your truck. No need to get all psycho on a buddy that acts like a little bitch, right? Unless you're from Florida and are prone to doing crazy shit since there's something in the water in that goddamn place. Nothing surprises me these days.

The solution is pretty simple, my friend: it sounds like your whiny bitch of a friend needs to HARDEN THE FUCK UP. And I'm not talking about getting his cock hard either. I'm talking about being a goddamn man and not some crying fucking douche bag that gets all emotional over stupid shit. Men hang out with other men...pussy belong on women last time I checked. Then again, we have Kaitlyn Jenner. Wait, what?! Calm down you sensitive fucks. It's a joke. But I digress...

God, if only it were that easy.

Honestly, I would call him out like the little bitch that he is, and tell him to grow a fucking pair. And if he has a big pair that he's already packing, tell him to get that shit checked out because vaginas don't look like franks and beans. It is quite possible though that he doesn’t realize what a vagina he is being, and it just needs to be called to his attention. He might thank you...OR, he just might slap you in the face (notice I said “slap”). Either way, the situation has grown so grave that your options are limited.

Like you said, men have a cock for a reason, and those who act like they don’t, need to be called-the-fuck-out. I know I speak on behalf of some men, that women don't want a whiny fucking bitch for a man, and quite honestly, I don't even know any chicks that whine as much as this dude. Not even the crazy bitches.

Godspeed,

J-Wun

Monday, September 30, 2019

Advice Column: Taking One For The Team



Dear J-Wun aka Ghetto Genius, 

Been following you for a minute and can't thank you enough for coming back. Days are much brighter now. Ok, my question for you - A few weeks ago, my buddies and I were at a bar.  We got shit faced and ended up meeting a group of random hot chicks.  The problem was, the chick I ended up talking to the whole night thought she was SO fucking hot when really, she was fluffy, wore inappropriate clothes for her size, talked way too much about herself and thought she was the whole 9.  I was completely drunk and I realized beer goggles couldn't get past trying to "take one for the team" with the chubster.  Even though I knew I had to so my buddy could get laid.     

What gives man? 

Sincerely,
Taking One for the Team



Dear Taking One for the Team,

All men have made the sacrifice.  The grenade jumping, dynamite diving, the bazooka belly flop.  I'm talking about hooking up with THAT one heinous chick so that your buddy could seal the deal with her friend.  And when I say, "seal the deal," I'm talking about smashing.  Plain.And.Simple.  Keep in mind too, when I say THAT chick, I don't mean that in any type of cool or pimp daddy way.  Hell nah.  I mean that as something you should take with a grain of fucking salt, bundle it up and throw it away.  Forever.  Take it to the grave.  Don't forget to bathe in 50 fucking bath bombs made from all things Clorox product related for a few days too.

Taking one for the team is something you should never be proud of. HOW-THE-FUCK-EVER, if it gets your buddy laid, then that shows loyalty and good karma. Because when it's time for you to step up to the plate and smash that hot chick from across the bar, that favor you did for your buddy will pay off ten-fold. Well...sometimes. I mean, if your buddy is a total fucking dickbag, then it looks like you'll be either masturbating with your tears when you get home, or banging another broad with a brown bag over her head. But hey, sometimes dry streaks happen. But I digress...

I remember when I jumped on my first grenade. It was in college. And it was fucking awful. The bitch was ugly as sin, loved to eat, talked a lot and had more hair on her vagina than a 70's porn star.  Now you're probably asking, "Why did you choose to have sex with her, J-Wunder?!" I didn't. I was fucking wasted beyond belief.  It just so happened that when my buddy took a fellow lady on a ride to Pound Town, it was in the living room of the hot chick and her ugly roommates apartment. That right there called for me and cyclops to go to her room. Cyclops? Yeah, the bitch was cross-eyed so bad, it looked like she had one fucking eye. Try sitting in a room, wasted, and have someone hitting on you.  Wanting the dilznick so fucking bad that they basically take off their clothes to implicate they want to fuck you.  I never sobered up so fast in my life. Matter of fact, I was so scared to touch her that my dick inverted into my stomach which made me look like, I too, had a vagina. A shaved one...but nonetheless a mud flapping imposter.

Here I am, willing to jump on a grenade, but not risk my life. Risk my reputation. Risk the very thought that J-Wunder fucked a one-eyed girl with a vagina the size of a London Broil. No way, no fucking how was this happening. Then came the questions?

What? You're too good for me? I'm too ugly? Why did you come over to my apartment if you didn't want a piece? Are you scared to be taken advantage of by a REAL woman?

This bitch obviously didn't get the memo that was sent out to the crew. Am I too good for you?  Based on looks, One-Eye Bandit, yes. Are you too ugly?  Have you looked at yourself in the fucking mirror lately? For fuck sakes, you're atrocious lady!  Hey, sorry for sounding like a complete fucking dick, ladies, but for fucks sake...I'm just being real!

Why did I come over to your apartment if I didn't want a piece? Bitch, two things: 1) My buddy wants to bang your hot ass roommate then cum on her back, so I'm here for support, 2) The only piece of anything I want, is that fucking slice of pizza I warmed up in your microwave that I can't go get now, because there's a goddamn fuck fest going on in your living room. Are you scared to be taken advantage of by a REAL woman?  The only thing real is that fucking bush you call pubic hair.

Never thought I would encounter a grenade so big. So difficult. So damn fucked up. But I'm a guy, and guys follow guy code. Til fucking death. Now does that mean I need to touch this chick? Nope.  As long as I keep her occupied until my buddy and her roommate finish, then mission accomplished.  You need to understand, it's these women, that keep the hot chicks from fucking dudes. They spoil that moment. The moment when the guy thinks he has it in the bag then cyclops walks up. All of the sudden the Haterade kicks in. She's tired. She wants to go home. That guy looks sleezy. He might have an STD. Blah, blah, blah.  Do you know how many other dudes had to deal with this chick so their buddies could bang the chick my buddy was fucking? Hundreds. I'm just sayin'.  Now, how many guys actually went through with fucking good 'ol One-Eyed Willy remains to be seen, but I bet she got hers. Which brings me to my point of your question.

This chick that you couldn't get yourself to fuck has fucked dozens of men based on taking advantage of the grenade rule. She plays the game because she knows that's the only way she'll get laid (nowadays, people will just fuck to fuck). Hell, if not laid, then at least giving someone dome. Think about it. You know you're ugly as shit so why not hate on men if you know all they want to do is nail your roommate/friend? Men hate chicks that hate, that's why we created the grenade rule. Cyclops is now reaping the benefits because of this rule. But don't get it twisted. Girls do this shit too...take one for the team when it comes down to SERIOUS desperate times and measures. So yeah, feel bad if you're the grenade. Shit, I know I've been a time or 40.

Your experience with Fatty Magee knows this rule all too well. It's up to you to either do what I did and keep her occupied by playing 3 hours of card games. Or, just say fuck it and go deep sea fishing my friend. Either way, your buddy will be proud and have your back when it's time for you to get yours.

Bros before Hoes,

J-Wunder