External Link/Members Only or
External Link/Members OnlyI feel like I’m being stalked by a black dog.
I feel depressed and fucked up. I saw Lexi Ryder in Bradford on Monday afternoon and then I’m up in Middlesbrough for a meeting. And I feel fucked, and I’ve been drinking heavily for 2 days and Lexi had me on the poppers and I have got a taste for it, and my fucking head is about to cave in and so I look at the pictures of Slim Tattooed Slag and I think yes – I love lap dancer and WAG types and she looks like she fits the fucking bill just nicely.
And she sends me the directions and I find myself in the arse hole of Middlesbrough and I’m driving down the road and there are an assortment of cunts to look at, smack heads, chav types wearing Stone Island, half caste single mums with an assortment of different coloured kids following on behind all of them with snotty noses and what a fucking life they have to look forward to. And the area is a shit hole. But I look at the street and I imagine it wasn’t always like this. Once upon a time people were happy. They loved their neighbours and looked out for one another. Kids played outside. You knew where you stood: a fucking house looked like a house and a street looked like a fucking street. You could put out flags and tea kettles for a royal jubilee. Then ideological modern architects, in league with control freak councils, ripped it all up. Streets are not the future. Their residents were too unruly. So they had to be herded into soulless blocks, human battery farms, like a tapestry of social neglect and decay, surrounded by open spaces that no one wanted or owned and to be colonised by the human waste and pond life I see before me. Harsh but true.
I get out of the car and a fat woman in a pink dressing gown is smoking a fag and drinking cider and it’s about 1 in the afternoon and she gives to the stare and I hold it as I don’t care what the fuck she thinks and I’m a cunt like that. And low and behold Slim Tattooed Slag answers the door to this shit tip house and I walk into the fucking hall and it looks and smells like an opium den and she looks like a right cunt – half fucked up and looks like she’s been gang banged for at least 6 hours. And I cannot believe that I’m walking up the stairs with her and if I had to describe her I would use the word ‘skank’ – and we are in the bedroom and she says its £80 and I am like internally thinking I cannot believe I am not walking, and I senselessly hand over the money and then amazingly I am reaching for an extra 10 so she can suck my dick and quite frankly I know what is coming and I know this is going to be shit and I know she is a cunt of the highest order. And she comes back in looking completely dazed and fucked up and she doesn’t even both removing the dressing gown contraption she is wearing – she just pulls it open and I decide to have a taste of her cunt and to be honest it is ok and she is trying to move things on quickly and she keeps trying to close her legs and quite honestly this is developing into a regular shit punt. So then I have a sniff of poppers thinking this will get me more into the mood, but all is does is serve to make my head a million times worse and whilst I am down there I am thinking this is probably a low point of a great punting career and someone with my experience should never get into this mess and the next thing I am asking her to suck my cock and she puts the end in her mouth and that’s about the best I can say for it because she doesn’t know how to suck a cock – and whilst this is happening in the background all I can think about is I could’ve been with Chelsea Hart or Lexi Ryder and getting a proper blowjob and fuck at a fraction of the cost of this – and then I’m back to the reality of my situation and I force her head onto my cock and the surprise makes her gag a little and I smile inside. I’m a cunt me. And finally I get her to pose for me a bit and I wank myself off – and then I tell her that she shouldn’t be charging this amount of money for this quality of service and that she’s bang out of order and she gets a bit moody at this feedback but I think fuck you love.
And I’m heading to the car, past the woman in the pink dressing gown who is still smoking a fag and she gives me another look and I return it back with interest and I’m driving out of this shit hole, past the stone cladding, St.Georges flags, broken fences, single mums, smack heads, stone island jackets and satellite dishes – and I think fucking hell, what a waste of an afternoon.
And on the way back I reflect on why I did this and I cannot answer my own question – I feel depressed, and fucked and disappointed and I really want to cry with annoyance. But I think about Slim Tattooed Slag and the even more depressing, dysfunctional, inadequate future which lies ahead for her – and I actually feel some sympathy. I need to raise my spirits so I go on Spotify and put on Siamese Twins by The Cure.
Hidden Image/Members Only
Topic: Slim Tattooed Slag - Middlesbrough (Read 11740 times)
