Of course I am. Why shouldn’t I be? For a few weeks before my last escapade with PG, he was all up in my giblets texting me incessantly. Our last encounter on 22Mar2018 (read about it here and here) was epic.
Now? Not a fucking thing, y’all.
I sent a few ass pics, accentuating its bigness/roundness (his weakness). Nothing.
I sent a dirty text while waiting for the gym to open. Nothing.
I sent another text saying that I need to fuck him. Nothing.
Today I sent him my last text: “No replies to my texts in a while…hope you’re okay.” Nothing.
I’m not sending him another text unless and until he texts me. Fucker. You know what, PG? I hope the fuck that you’re not fucking okay. I hope you run out of your prescription. So there. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, EABOD, PG!
Oh, and quite unexpectedly, Man Bun slid into my DMs on Instagram the other day. Now he is also following me. The last time I saw him, I mentioned a trip to somewhere lovely with me and him and he asked about it. Um, no. I am not paying $25k for a week of his time, PLUS all expenses for the both of us…it was just me fantasizing out loud. If he’d toss me a freebie, I’d pay for a trip for us both, but NOT with his fee on top of it.
You know what? Fuck Man Bun, too, god dammit. I could have a week of him or a new master bath. I know which one I’m choosing.
Whatever. God fucking dammit. I need some peen.
…and always remember: Ho is life, y’all!
#notesfromaslut #honeytoes #hoislife