Log 038 ~Will Has Stress Balls~

Where is my fidget cube when I need it and other than the shower my kid gives me no private time and unfortunately I can carry my phone into the bathroom, and last night I got a good night’s sleep for one reason? Will Has Stress Balls.

Thursday, August 8, 2019

Log 038 ~Will Has Stress Balls~

WARNING, 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED

Come In Dirty Diana,
I AM a Millionaire right now but also a CREEP. Mind your tongue; I’m not a stalker, Mr. Trump, or any other type of criminal. I’m a dominant, a sadist, and someone who doesn’t handle stress well. Last night was the perfect example, skeevy as the “Basic Bitch” would say. Hell, I didn’t go to bed because I was satisfied. I was hoping I finally scared myself to death. The reason; Facebook and accidentally clicking on a picture from a year ago. Pretty girls have blocked me for less; words, Pokemon.

I’m in a lovey-dovey mood and not a sexual one, which leads me to Alita: Battle Angel. “I’ll give you my heart,” I’ll add that to the things a girl could say to me. Don’t worry, we’ll get to breasts but to have a girl’s heart. A woman’s I should say WHAT’S MY AGE AGAIN? Why the 90’s early 2000’s kick; music was better, huh? I like girls that have brains. Don’t I always say every Saturday, two to three hours of nuclear pop? It’s also a requisite she loves reading and decent movies. I was telling “Indiana Gone” that the other day. It’s not like I’m a genius, but hell the real shape of a heart. Didn’t I say I was a creep or creepy? Anyway, she must love my little ball of fluff, my son, you know. If dogs could talk not that he cares what I look up or click on: Thumbs.

Yeah, those and my fingers that had me staring at dirty titties last night. Well, that’s how it started, and then I was clicking, my mistake. Once again, I’m a slave to my phone. I’ll always be a boob guy Dirty Diana. A few hours ago it was all boobs, now to a girl with no boobs. Before my indiscretion, I was all about ass. Yesterday I said I can’t look people in the face. I know some great asses, though, two in particular. Well, three if you count the shower and please don’t. Last but not least, got the nub, got the nub; I’ll quit with the songs at some point. Pleasing women, once I get them in bed is the ultimate goal. I have no idea what I’m doing every day I’ll admit.

Such is my stress, and I lost my fidget cube, but Will Has Stress Balls.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 300 ~I Hope They Remember~

What’s the last story I consider timeless, the story I can reread, and it doesn’t break my heart, or I make me all sorts of anxious before it gets to the good stuff, which one can I quote all day? “I Hope They Remember.”

Friday, April 27, 2018

Lesson 300 ~I Hope They Remember~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I Am Not Fine Today because I remember… I was thinking of a new rule “Good Stories Are Worth Retelling,” but that’s not true at all or at least it’s less true than “History Is Written By The Victors” I still hate that saying. So the lesson today is what stories would you like retold, remembered, reimagined, and please excuse my alliteration but that’s just another thing I wish I could forget but that seems impossible honestly.

Much like forgetting what I watched last night… I won’t say what because I don’t want to spoil it but even when you don’t care it’s just, I know something you don’t know and you know I am no one for secrets. Part of the reason I am a writer is that I want people to know and in the end, remember me, but there are so many stories of who I am I don’t know which one is true anymore. Did I tell you I finished my book and I’m nowhere near done even editing the first chapter and the ending, don’t get me started on endings today shouldn’t I be focused on beginnings?

Anyway as far as stories retold, hell Lady Sophia do you want a list, it would be pretty short, and the Bible didn’t make it, hell I’ve never gotten through the whole thing, every single book. Now there are plenty of books worth remembering but again if anything I want to remember me, remember the man that isn’t me in my words, or give them something to remember because the man I am was never wanted. As far as reimagined, that takes me to last night, can’t say what I was expecting, but I wanted to know it for myself.

I don’t think any story is the same for any person, so that means there has to be someone out there, out of seven billion people or so that will do what… like my story, remember that I’m only human. As I was telling “Indiana Gone” this morning, I might stand a chance as a teacher, on how not to do something but don’t look to me for any guidance.

Then again tell me to stop highlighting every single thing in a book, trying to find some real reason, like the review that I might write today, but of course, I won’t post it quite yet because for right now Sophia I Hope They Remember.

I Will Have No Fear