beard.
it has two definitions.
it can be that thing you have on your face when you don’t shave for 2 weeks.
like, now.
baby when do you plan on getting a cut?
you look terrible.
or it could be:

yup.
the big breasted,
shiny haired,
“look like you have good pussy”,
vixen you usually saw in your dreams or a magazine spread for bras.
today foxhole,
we gonna talk about the beard,
or to some of us:
friend…

Continue reading “Everyone Meet My Brand New Piece of Pussy.” →

who doesn’t like a wolf who works out?
nothing better than laying next to a muscular wolf and rubbing all on his body.
feeling all those rips and cuts.
excuse me.
 just drooled.
sometimes i think they would rather go to the gym than beat some cakes up.
this wolf:

well he and his vixen decided to film their session…

Continue reading “f0XXX: Her Body Builder Wolf Puts All His Weight In Her” →

an f-bi sent me this story and i had to post it ASAP.
i seriously need opinions on this one foxhole…

Continue reading “Man Kills Himself Because He Was Tired of Beatin’ His Boss’s Coochie Up…!” →

evelyn said fuck it.

she has her life fixed.
she is the new spokesperson for peta.
bbw 5 is now taping.
she has grown up past the drama.
now, it’s time to let bygones be bygones…

Continue reading “Evelyn Decided To Not Restrain That Pipe Any Longer” →

“let me see all the people you messed with.”
“i can’t boo…”
“why not?”
“there is too much.”
“what is too much?”

silence.

that was the rapper wolf-hybrid.
i mentioned in my other entry a couple days ago that i met for lunch.
well, he was at my crib today.
he wanted to come over because he needed to get away.
plus, he wanted to let me hear a single he has been working on.
give him some tips on what he should do as far as his image.

low key: i still got myself “prepared” before he came over.
just in case.

i may have let him knock the dust off.
i know.
it’s been a long time and the way we been flirt texting….

Continue reading “The 499 Booty Calls Of A Wolf-Hybrid Rapper… But Jamari Fox Ain’t 1.” →

quality.
you know it when you experience it.
when you touch it, it feels different.
when you lay on it, it feels exceptional.
when it comes into your life,
you want more of it.
shit, some of us are quality.
i know i am.
with my writing alone,
i am worth a lot.
we have so many skills and talents that it automatically makes us expensive.
if you count up all the things you are good at,
you will see that you are pretty pricey.

… but, why do we deal with such low quality from people we date… or fuck?
we like to wear cute clothes and be fly on instagram,
but when it comes to our hearts,
we let just “anyone” with a american express dick/ass,
with a citi trends attitude,
possess it.
why is this?
do some of us not know our value?
or, do we know and we just settle because it is easier?
i started to wonder…

when did our material possessions worth more than us?

Continue reading “His Pipe Is American Express… But He Treats Me Like The Dollar Store.” →