Why do women say they won’t, when they will? Why do women say they don’t, when they do? So many unnecessary games, lies, and manipulations, how can anyone possibly find their way through this maze of intrigue? I may know of someone who can assist in unraveling the true mystery of female flirtation… he’s an old friend of mine… he has a unique perspective on the world… he is in love with a stubborn rose… he has tamed a clever fox… he is The Little Prince. (more…)

Gideon and I sat side-by-side
Conversing about a bitch we had eyed:
I think she’s fat.
But why is that?  She’s just a little round.
I hate her face.
It’s no disgrace.  Her features are profound.
Complexion sucks.
Who gives a fuck?  They’re simply extra mounds. 
A big ass nose, some old ass clothes, her breath is world renowned!
Her nose is straight, shirt is ornate, great qualities abound!
“You,” Gideon said with a pang,
“See the whole world in black and bang.”

(more…)

          “You are clean… right?”            
          I’m repeatedly befuddled by women pestering with this manner of query AFTER we’ve already had unprotected sex.  If they’re really concerned, why wouldn’t they interrogate me prior to the act?  Even then, why gamble their venereal purity on a smooth talking scum bag who insists on rounds of tequila shots?  If someone was knowingly carrying a respectable assortment of STDs, and fucked you raw regardless, could you possibly expect an honest post fornication inquisition?  (more…)

             I love it when a woman submits by opening her heart AND her asshole.  I’ve extolled the virtues of vagina on countless pages and, as orifices go, it has no equal.  However, I approach each adventure with a new female as if it were my last and so I feel obligated to creep into every crevice, scour every slice, and kiss every crack.  Filthy behavior has been a lifelong passion; as a child I loved playing in the dirt… things haven’t changed much. (more…)

             Very little enhances a vaginal victory like a bit of kleptomania.  I’m not referring to emotional theft, most are already well aware of my sick sadistic need in that territory, nor am I painting some clever metaphor about the enjoyment of stolen virginity.  No, I’m talking about tangible items, things of monetary value, and, of course, currencies of varying denominations.  I’m talking about fucking a female, rummaging about her belongings, and leaving with a token of HER appreciation. (more…)