i guess one of the perks of being gay is knowing pretty vixens.
like 98% of the vixens i know are gorgeous.
no full blown ratchets.
all trying to make something of themselves.
you are who you attract?
they are always #teamjamarifoxlife too.
the funny part is,
if i was straight,
i’m sure i would have dated them.
well today i went on a lunch date with one of the flyest…
this dumb ass...
aight let me see his private messages…
i gave him 3 benadryls so he gonna be sleep until tomorrow afternoon.
just as i thought!
i don’t want to be this person.
“hackin’ my wolf’s phone to find out if he is cheatin’ on me.”
that person makes me break out in hives.
i usually judge that person in my head.
“if they know their wolf isn’t faithful,
what more proof is needed?
sometimes you can have all the proof and still need the “gut punch”.
you need to read the messages.
see the sexting.
your nose needs to inhale the bullshit.
so there you are…
screenshotting and emailing evidence to yourself.
sending messages to the hoes with a promise of an ass whoopin’.
why is the aggression directed at his ass?
why not drop him and realize our worth?
at some point,
in the matters of love,
do we all become “that person”?
the one who has to stalk his social media accounts?
i had to wonder…
Can you see yourself hackin’ your man’s phone?
when my wolf cums,
we are going to visit many strip clubs across the country.
now don’t get me wrong,
i’d rather fuck a male stripper,
but i like to watch vixens dance.
here is why…
“the road to my happiness is paved in plastic.”
i just got home.
after that scene at the dog and pony show i call “my job” friday,
i decided to go and have some much retail therapy on saturday.
can i mention how every major store had sales today?
50 to 60% off.
lordt take me now!
i met up with one of my straight wolf friends who was going to be in soho.
i didn’t really spend too much.
he outdid me.
something about seeing the words,
after my purchase is rung up makes me have an orgasm.
so we both decided to have lunch,
and talk about some recent events that ended up bothering me…
there was a vixen i use to know.
how we became cool was actually a funny story.
so we met at a retail job i worked at couple years ago…
ive asked a few vixens how they feel when wolves holla at them on the street.
“i hate it.”
“i don’t stop for these pineapples.”
“what do i look like stopping for a pineapple in a car? a prostitute?”
i often wondered if i was a vixen,
would i like the attention?
in my head,
if the wolf was fine,
i mos def would stop and get his number.
most of the times,
as vixens put it,
the fine wolves don’t ask them for their numbers on the street.
well the following youtube video is a about a vixen,
with a fat ass,
walking the streets of new yawk for 10 hours.
now you all know how i feel about september.
oh you dunno who that is?
thats what i like to call august alsina’s ratchet alter ego.
september decided to bring some vixens on stage the other night in alabama.
they are currently on the testimony live tour.
august was going to seduce them with vocals.
well as august was singing,
september decided to give a vixen something pretty interesting…
i’ll be honest with you.
back in the day,
dealing with the loneliness of being a fox aka bottom,
i would imagine myself as ^that vixen.
well not that vixen per say,
but something in that package.
long wet ‘n’ wavy hair.
a fat ass.
i would say:
i’d have that fine ass wolf over there!
i’d get him to buy me dis!
take me here!
i’d use my pussy to get the pineapples i wanted!
i’d have every sexy wolf i’d see!”
i would see a chick like that and get so jealous.
she would be getting all the wolves i wanted.
it would make me feel that those same wolves i liked were only “straight”.
when i say instant depression?
well lately i have stepped outside my insecurities.
hanging out and working with the straights teaches me a lot.
sometimes when a wolf is hungry,
with a body like that,
he can pretty much get anything on the menu.
sausage stuffed squash.
well this wolf was in the mood for asian takeout.
judging from the way he went at it…
(this is 18^ and nsfw)…
what is “damn he tore my shit up” mean to people?
ever so often,
we meet a wolf who is cocky in the bed.
we beggin for mercy and can’t stop moaning.
the neighbors know his first,
and parent’s name.
HE PUTS IT THE FUCK DOWN.
what would you think of a wolf if had someone hollering like this…
and a link that isn’t for straight eyes)…