Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Advice Column: Gold Diggin'


Big Fan here, Love the blog, follow your page and all that creepy stalker shit, ever make it to the South and hit me up, I show you how fucking crazy rednecks party.

Lets cut the shit and get right to the balls.

I'm 28, and recently been dating a much older man, (like 57 old), but we really do have a lot of fucking crazy shit in common, here's the problem, he's loaded. I like to party and I like to party on fucking yachts, but because of the age difference I'm nervous about the outcome. I live in a small town in Oklahoma where everyone likes to talk. Now, the money is fun, the trips to the lake, Vegas, Miami all fun, but it's not what actually attacts me. So, do I cut it off now before it goes to far to save face or to I say "go fuck yourself" to anyone that talks shit...

Give it to me straight, or just give it to me....

Red on the Head and Fire in the Bed,

Dear Fire Crotch,

What to do, what to fucking do? A dilemma that’s only a dilemma because of what OTHERS think. One woman. One old ass mother fucker. A shit ton of cash…that’s not yours, rather, Old Yambag Magee’s. Now, is 57 really that fucking old you ask? All depends on who you fucking ask I guess. But a 30 year age difference? Shit, bitch titties. People WILL talk…for two reasons: 1) You’re after something if you can’t get 20-something goddamn dick and 2) You’re after something if you can’t get 20-something goddamn mother fucking dick. No one would bother to question Mr. Rich Fuck because he carries all the dough so pulling in bitches ain’t gonna be no thang. You on the other hand…you got an agenda that bugs the living shit out of others who surround you. Here’s my advice:


Let me say that one more time and spell it out for you:

F-U-C-K ‘E-M.

See, I was about to go out on a limb and call you a gold digging ass cunt. But then I thought about it over and over til I was drunk enough to come up with some logical advice. That’s why “Fuck ‘em” was the start of what I’m about to say.

Haters gonna fucking hate. And that’s cool. It’s up to you though, to either embrace this shit and feel like a cuntrag or move the fuck on and go about your business. You going on lavish trips, getting spoiled rotten as fuck and sucking dudes dick when he says, “Hey Big Red, pull out the knee pads, time to suck daddy’s dick”. Oh, lets not forget about the boning part. Because lets be honest, old dudes love to fuck too.

I’m not really interested in what the fuck you two have in common. Because if I was, this column wouldn’t exist and I wouldn’t be on the brink of 1.5 million hits. You’re welcome. Mother fuckers don’t want to hear what you and some rich fuck have in common, they just want the meat of what the fuck is going on in my head and what bullshit I have to say next. Real talk.

Anyway, you need to ignore all these other fucks and keep on keepin’ on. You’re 28 and having a blast with life…well, you're having a blast with this mother fucker IN your life is more like it. You have probably done more in your few months of living than anyone will ever do in their goddamn lifetime. Who gives two shits about the rumor mill? Haters hate because they want what you have. They want those fancy trips. They want the nice watches. They want the designer clothes, extravagant dinners…they want to be spoiled…at someone else’s expense. I mean, who the fuck wouldn’t? And for you readers out there who are probably saying, “Fuck that…I have more self respect than to be a gold digging ass bitch”, you know what I have to say? Fuck you for lying to yourselves. Money doesn’t buy happiness but if it ain’t your money that you’re spending, you won’t give two shits and would be rocking a goddamn smile from ear to fucking ear. True story. This isn't about self respect, morals, dignity and blah, blah fucking blah people, it's about living the fucking dream because you can.

You love your life. You just don’t love the shit that’s being said about you. So obviously, there is some small piece of your goddamn heart that cares what other people think. Good for you. Congrats on having a conscience and shit. Congrats on pointing it out and writing to me about it. But something tells me, that guilt will die…why? Because your life won’t be the same. Bottom line: you’ll be a broke ass bitch that will never be able to find a dude like Richey fucking Rich. Fuck what you have in common with this dude…hell, if a bitch was spoiling me fucking rotten, I’d find some shit to have in common with them too. It ain’t that hard. You like tennis? Funny thing bitch, so do I. Oh, your favorite food is Italian? Lucky for you, I cook a mean mother fucking meatball mother fucker…Emeril don’t got shit on me…BAM BITCH! You like sex? Well, I LOVE sex and if you take me on your yacht, not only will I let you fuck me, I will jizz on your face and slap you around with my cock til I get hard again. See, it ain’t that hard and I know you know that I know you know what the fuck you were thinking when you said you two had some shit in common. Bitch please. Dude was born in 1955. You know what happened in 1955? I hope you do because I fucking don’t and I’m fucking older than you. BTW – Just because you both like cocaine and recite quotes when high as fuck, doesn’t mean shit. Just sayin’. But I fucking digress…

Do what you dig. You wouldn’t have been seeing this dude if you were planning on feeling guilty, right? Why should you? No need to explain you both love Philosophy and literature from the Renaissance Era. Hell, no need to explain how you two fucking met in Mexico drunk because he thought you were a hooker he wanted to give a Blue Waffle to with a slice of a Dirty Sanchez. You know why you’re in this mess so stay in it. People are already gonna assume it’s about the money. No one gives a flying fuck about other reasons because they don’t want to see your point. If the mother fucker was broke, then maybe. And since that's not the goddamn case, you run with Mr. Money Bags and you have that mother fucker spoil you rotten. Because at the end of the day, that’s what makes him happy – you sticking around, seeing you with a big ass smile on your cute little face, while you suck his dong and he rewards you with some Cristal and other things US mother fuckers will never get to experience.

Be true to yourself and the game. And remember, “Don’t hate me because you ain’t me.” Words to fucking live by.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I got this one rich bitch who’s taking me out to dinner, then sucking MY dick. I got class too, bitch.

Keep your game tight and your pussy tighter,



Anonymous said...

Love it!

slosippa said...

j-wunder put it pretty good. keep on your grind and if hes dumb enough to give it you may as well keep getting it. as far as saving face,thats entirely up to you.just slap some finesse on the situation and keep the situation on the down low because if you ever do get serious about a guy he may see you as a gold digger even if your diggin his gold. feel me??

Anonymous said...

I only have 1 question ... Where in the fuck are there Yahts in fucking Oklahoma ??

Rowdy Reign said...

^^ what anon said, and J you should TOTALLY have my kids. ;) -nudge-

Liz said...

The yachts are on lake texoma. Where I will be diggin up gold next week. Thank J. I knew you'd shoot me straight. "Don't hate me because you ain't me" is now my motto for life. Love to waste more time but I gotta go shopping now,
Red on the Head, rich as shit in his bed!

Anonymous said...

Exactly right straight to the truth. Keep it real and worry about yourself.

Anonymous said...

Omfg! Thank you! I needed this answer also.. and what a freaking great one it was. XOXO. thx j-wunder.

Pae said...

High class problems.

Anonymous said...

Say, ho.
Look, I ain't rich but I can pay for a jetblue flight to LA, an eightball of ye-yo, and some 3-star meals...
Thats the good news.. Here(in no particular order) is the great news
-I got blessed by black Jesus with a monstrous cock that'll make your pussy sing
-I love love love eating redhead Midwestern pussy
-this is LA, where folks just don't give a shit about what other people think.

Look, just grow the fuck up and get yours!
It's cool. I mean, the fact that you even contemplate
it says more to your credit than most bitches..Now go have some fun...

Champagne problems!

And if in the meantime? If you wanna come out to the coast, smoke a bowl, and contemplate the classic moral ambiguity of trading your fine ass pussy for cash and prizes with somebody who appreciates plowing said fine ass pussy.. Well, I'll be here waiting.