dont be sorry. No one gets away with being blunt the way you do

14:40

today i only feel like giving out bitchslaps. no bitches around so Im stuffing my mouth full of chewing tobacco instead. Jules is at the hospital checking if she won the lottery, she wants me to be the godmother if she got a bastard in her tummy. somehow i got this feeling that bastards are always delivered to the world with a bad ass sticker on their forehead.

i don't write that much anymore cause i have successfully filled my life with a path that runs from point A (home) to Point B (office). it is lame, it is sad, but it is fulfilling.

there is a boy, no I'm lying. more like a man. when he speaks i cum. thats it.

what happens in shanghai

its been quiet for a while i know. its been non stop weekdays followed by please don't stop weekends. I met a boy, I don't think it will last but I like the way he talks to me about his work. Its like listening to a radio n than realize you can have wild sex with that electrical machine. My boss - mr ceo - was here last week. We ended up anywhere a decent human being that appreciates good scotch and a pleasant view would end up at. Conclusion, what happens in this city will hopefully stay here. Just like he said: "this is the sin city".

tomo i am going to some nerdy technology conference for girls. we probable gonna decorate each others mac air with pink hello kitty stickers.

if i ever get a girl i shall name her juliet

thank you for the message asshole

jules is arriving today so I'm stocking up on my hormonal impulses these past weeks. i can't help but being touched by someone growing up listening to Sonny n Cher. Mr Big wants to sleep over and I only know how to say when and where. I take him to a private dinning place cause privacy is underrated in this sin city. We smoke more than we eat, he drinks more than I smoke, I tell him about that I wanna kill myself 20times everyday and he tells me every second day is more common. This city has a poisonous vein that is running through my body, i feel toxic in a good way.

He wakes me up in the mid of the night with a hard surprise and I receive it happily although sleepy. Breakfast doesn't seem to be the most important meal of the day. I don't like to say good morning so I pretend to be asleep until I hear my door closes downstairs. Last time he didn't lock and I never felt safer in this city. Mister doesn't say much when I tell him about potential future husbands, he only looks at me with a look that tells me to go fuck myself or he will. Self-control, whats that?

my heritage itch