Consistent Pussy

More kitty than I could have possibly asked for

What have I been up to for the last few months. Good question. Only good things. Ok, maybe not “good” but definitely enough to keep me engaged away from the usual vices.

It’s hard to be a whore blogger when you’re not whoring. I suppose that’s the natural evolution of things. Sex, Love, and Payment Plans is an entertaining window into the sex underworld for you guys, but a form of therapy for me. Unfortunately for my writing, the therapy is working.

A few months ago, I found myself pining over an e-girl across the country I had no business pining over. You know how it goes. “I thought we were going to have a special connection,” etc etc, while she’s out pole riding other dudes. Fuck me, I’ve done it again. Trying to get with a broad who wants to make me an emotional support male.

Heartache and stress are good for me, though. Pissed at myself for giving her undeserved attention, I used the frustration as fuel for some life changes I’ve been putting off for some time. I dropped 20 pounds, got a new car, finally sold my old car, and started taking my dating life more seriously.

Since March I’ve dated two girls, a blonde and a brunette, one girl who works in my office building and another friend of a friend. There was just one problem: first dates bore me to tears.

Heaux apparently interpret meeting for drinks as low pressure. For me, I have to pretend like I’m interested in hearing her talk amongst a crowd of loud, annoying people. The smell of sweat and desperation in the air. Is this what dating is like? Sitting across from her hoping to pump enough sex fuel into her that she considers deep throating me?

I just don’t care to drink, except with friends and on the corporate tab. And even now I can’t drink like I used to. The hangovers take way longer to recover from. I feel gross and achy for days if I get more than a little buzzed. I’m losing my edge.

I’m trying to find a heaux to do something more fun with. Bitch let me take you on a jet ski. Go ride four-wheelers in the countryside. Sip some wine and go on a scenic train ride. Let’s do anything besides sit at this noisy, smelly bar.

Now I know why I paid so much money to get my dick sucked. You can spend just as much meeting random women and get nothing out of it. But maybe that’s the point. Keep swinging until you hit. Roll that stone up the hill, Mr. Sibley. One of those stones will become your wife and roll back down on your dick.

I digress. Back on the subject of pussy - one of the office managers is a crazy cat lady. There’s a 1:1 ratio of cat to human that shouldn’t be exceeded. She owns five.

Every year, a feral mama cat drops off baby kittens underneath her deck that she gives away to people. She sent an email to the office asking if anyone wanted one out of the latest litter.

I’d been thinking about getting a cat for months. Years ago, I had considered getting one because I was sad and hoped it would cheer me up. That’s the stupidest reason to get an animal, if you were wondering.

A pet will not improve your miserable state. If anything, the pet will join you in being a fat, sloppy loser. Or a childless menopausal woman, known more commonly as a Democrat voter.