Episode 362 ~You Writing A Will~

I’ve never been the hero of my story and no wonder I’m so tired, writing what everyone else would make me out to be; the difference between enjoying writing and hating myself for it daily. “You Writing A Will?”

Friday, June 28, 2019

Episode 362 ~You Writing A Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Millionaire right now, but I want to leave my future family with more. Yesterday I was 51% Dead 49% Living, well I did talk to Dirty Diana. If anything I was only alive from the time it took me to turn into Leonard from Big Bang Theory: A XXX Parody. No, I didn’t watch it, but that hasn’t stopped me from wasting valuable “sexual” energies on other things. Am I still going on and on about my Pinterest boards? 120 Sections, that’s 119 girls the last being chicks tied up in ribbons and sashes.

I’ve said it before the true stories of depravity, desire, and deviants, always get me going. Fucked Up I know (LANGUAGE). Speaking of which I might go to see Avengers: Endgame again with all the extras. I want to be the man that finishes what he starts, but that too would be put in the fiction section. These days Lady Sophia the story is, I wake up, work if I must, sleep, and come up with dirty names for women. Of course, that wouldn’t matter if I was a woman or I was looking at millions. Could my compilation of poetry get me those millions? Of course, I take a look at my Enormous Penis. Talk about having some positivity today. I have pants on finally; it’s payday, B III is his usual self. Don’t say I’m never grateful for the things I do have.

I have naughty ideas for my next story though the last novel I wrote remains nameless. It’s impressive when I can come up with all sorts of names. Teaching Tight Tatum, Atop Amateur Ashton, Misunderstood Missionary Megan (Homer drools). I’ll own that brothel yet and make Dennis Hof proud. Hell, I’ll know infamy like Jimmy Stephens. I don’t bother with my “father,” but that’s something I can’t bring myself to erase, his friend request. His story would play out better than the two men I mentioned. Family man, the beautiful wife, paying for a Ne’er-do-well son, churchgoer, upstanding American. No, I will instead be a brothel-owning, babe banging, model hiring, Republican. Trying to stay out of jail, that is winning.

I want to write a story of a dream made a reality, I’ll tell it in print, in checks, contracts, covers, and of course NDA’s. For now, though my life needs a few edits. You ask, You Writing A Will.

I Will Have No Fear

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