Last week I talked about counting on me, and today it’s been hours at work, seven new Pinterest boards I believe, and I didn’t even broach the subject of a million dollars in one month, still not published. Four On Will’s Fairway.
Wednesday, July 31, 2019
Log 030 ~Four On Will’s Fairway~
Forgive Me Echo,
I AM A Millionaire right now, and like Eric Thomas, I don’t play golf. Here I was expecting four days off when I have six. Sticking with the four though, I won’t tell you the story of “The Big D,” SIGH. For the record that was the first time, I fell in love. It’s why once upon a time Four was a lucky number as in Group 4. Should I tell you about Group Five Photosports; hell I wish. Yeah, I already broke down again. Fear The Walking Dead fantasies plus Kneeling Kinkster Kennedy. Let’s also add Kosame Dash: Letting It Air Out “Public Pickups” and some Angie Varona for good measure.
Never thought about it before but is that why I’m partial to the numbers three and five? You must forgive my scatterbrain, hell I’m going to need it over the next few days. For now, only one thing has been on my mind, and that’s walking out. I told “Cherry” a bit of this, but I got asked to come in today at the Day Job. Low and behold the first question out of the Manager’s mouth is “what are you doing today?” Dammit, Inspector Echo (LANGUAGE) I’m dominant for a reason. I like what I like; I know what I want. Well, “MILF Dos” might disagree, but I have quite the imagination. Anyway, so I blow up at her and the flower child and leave work thirty minutes early. So of course you know I have to worry this week and the next; it happens. Here’s the worrying list:
One job, one source of income, I can’t get fired.
Two girls I yelled at and two lives to worry about, me and B III
Three tacos from Burger King, they suck, Taco Bell forever
Four women that got me FAPPING again well six actually
Five tasks I did accomplish at the Day Job. Shelves cleaned, Trash, Upstairs hardware, Candles and Avengers display set-up, Stockroom
Only it’s never enough. I always tell myself. Hell, I was so out of it this morning with the fantasy and the madness. I didn’t make the bed, and when I got back hell, I’ve been zoned out. I value myself and my time, but I ate those nasty tacos and played around on Pinterest. 158 Sections on one board.
Forgive me Inspector Echo, like Trump, Four On Will’s Fairway
I Will Have No Fear