Bad Ass Girlz Blog

Sometimes I think of Molly. Her rap music and her stripper pole. Her getting pissed off when someone drops the n-word. I miss her sometimes. But what’s the point of missing a fucking lesbian who doesn’t give a fuck about men? She’s aching for pussy 24/7. She’s got no heart. She just wanna make money, get high, party, and suck on pussy. She’s vacuous, man. I want a soul mate. When I shoot my cum into her pussy I want her to want to be with me forever. I want my name to burn in her brain like a fucking tattoo. I want to be her God. And that’s the kind of shit I’d never have with Molly. She’s uptight. She’s immature. She’s smoke and mirrors. She never opens herself up in chat, because of all the motherfuckers asking dumb questions.

Yeah I’m talking about you, asshole.

She wants pussy. Man, I hate having someone who doesn’t want me. It’s sick and unhealthy. Because I’m chasing something I can never have, and I feed off that pain, because I’m a masochist. I get off on chasing girls. When they chase me I lose interest. So Molly’s a challenge, but she’s more than that - she’s an impossibility.

Sometimes I feel like impressing her. Sometimes I wanna crack her heart open like a safe cracker. Yeah I’m completely dreaming. Her blonde hair, her innocent face, and her addiction to snatch…One day she’ll marry a rich guy. She won’t be happy, but she’ll have babies, and they’ll keep her occupied. Her soul’ll always be empty. But she’ll carry on with a bulletproof heart. And I’m too selfish to try to make her happy man. I don’t want to bother telling her things she wants to hear. I don’t want to bother giving her what she needs. All I can think of is what I want, except I don’t even know what the fuck I want.

Sex is all around me. The last 30 girls I’ve had were all about sex. And guess what I felt nothing fucking them. Molly’s driving me nuts, and that’s why I left. Because I want her bad, and I could never have her, and that’d drive me crazy. Don’t chase the moon, but once you want something, it burns in your mind, and even when you’re running the other way, a piece of you is running straight toward her. I got no choice, it’s worse than crack. It’s worse than love. It’s a God damn obsession. And I can’t turn back the clock.

This entry was posted on Friday, August 31st, 2007 at 11:00 pm and is filed under Porn. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.