FML x3

you need to be feeling your best to make someone's perverted dreams come true. so one manwhore dilemma is if you're having a bad day do you politely decline the job or do you begrudgingly persevere knowing that your most unenergetic lazy mode will more than likely still give them the best fuck they've ever had?

i usually say fuck it. it's not worth it. sometimes i've stuck with it and the job had turned out to be great, rewarding and sometimes even cheered me up a little. other times i'm wanting to punch the cunt in the fucking throat and stab them into a bloody mess should they lay their fucking filthy faggot hands on me one more time

usually i back out. the money is not worth putting myself through shit and possibly pissing someone else off by giving them a shit time. 

i had received a call from John. i had not heard from him in a long time. i got a bit tired of seeing him so referred him to a mate who needed cash. Jack was a guy i trained with out  in the country. he was a great guy and fucking hot - not just for a dude who was nearly 50, but just a fucking hot muscled daddy. he was a long time friends of my ex's, so as much as we wanted to fuck the guts out of each other, i chose not to because it would have made a weird situation worse. i chose to have morals and shit. if i only knew what a cocksucker was ex going to become. i'm adamned fool for being a nice guy

John had been seeing Jack for almost a year now. they wanted to spice up their weekly meetings. i was invited to join them. "fuck yeah!"

that thursday morning came. i jumped on the bike to scoot across town. then "WOOOOOO!" just outside my house the police pulled me over. my bike had been unregistered for a week. a $360 fine. 

i grinded my teeth a little. my fault. no matter. 

i had the spare keys to my friends bike. i grabbed a taxi and no more than a few hundred meters down the road all the roads were blocked with traffic. with a little exploration through some back alleys i managed to make it to my mate's house at twice the price. i pulled out the keys and fiddled with the bike lock. it wouldn't unlock. i had fucked my mate's bike lock and given him my old wheel lock. there was only one key to that. that key would be on the set of keys my friend has - 1500kms away. 

again, my fault. 

in a cab to the other side of town, in today's rotten traffic would not only get me there late, but would eat away half the cash i would make. plus, i'm in such a fucking bad mood i can't be arsed fucking 

anything, no molter how hot the other guy in the room is gonna be

i call it a day and cancel

i catch the train home. two stations are equidistant, i chose the one where there is only a train every 45 minutes. again, my fault for making a bad decision

in a foul mood i think KFC will cheer me up. i bit into a piece of chicken and half my rear molar falls out. eating steroid chicken was my fault

i drag my sorry ass back home, plonk myself on the couch and accidentally spill a glass of water all over my mac. frying the logic board. my fault

bike fine + taxis + tooth + macbook = a few thousand dollars. that's an expensive day. this was a day when i should not have gotten out of bed