Broke Dick Bitch

I can't sleep.

I've done everything that I could. There is no more without the Internet. I've listened to all the music that I have on my computer, watched all of the shows, typed all of the paperwork for the SHOUT OUT, cleaned the kitchen, threw out the garbage. There's nothing else to do but ruminate. To think and to write another blog post. That's what I'm going to do, ruminate and blog again.

First I want to talk about my health. Good news. Doctor A. got my lab work back from the vampires at Quest Diagnostics, the lab with the crazy woman blood technician who thought just because she made one puncture in my arm meant that she can pull it out and shove it in repeatedly looking for a blood vessel. I was about to slap the shit out of that bitch because that shit was actually hurting with every stab.

He says that my kidneys are improving nicely, but that my potassium was low. My kidneys improving nicely? That's great news. Dialysis is no longer in my future. I don't know how I would have handled that. I know of a fellow poet on dialysis. Three times a week he has to go in to have his blood cleaned out through hoses tapped into his shoulder, like the tap on a beer keg. I can't believe that. My heart goes out to him. I was just there, dangling by a thread, but the recuperative powers of my body saved me a second time. I am genuinely happy.

Well the bad news. I was sitting in my room, doing nothing, having nothing to do. Bored out of my head. So I looked half- heartedly at a little porn, copped an erection, and decided to measure it to see if I was still at my stately seven inches. I measured myself twice. Something was wrong. Now I was down to five inches. FIVE INCHES. Maybe it was because it was half into it and half not. But lately, I've been half into anything sexual. I cop half-hearted everything. Half-hearted arousals, half-hearted erections, and premature ejaculation if you can believe it, which is disturbing. I just touch my erection and he blows his load. Talk about sensitivity, what the fuck is that about? Of course, I was in full panic mode over this shit for awhile until I jacked off using a condom for shits and giggles, and that shit worked like a charm! I was pounding away on the little motherfucker gleefully for five minutes. But still, my johnson has lost much of it's common sense after the LUVOX. I shake my head at it. Modern science caused me a whole lot of sexual dysfunction.

But I guess that comes with old age too. I'm pushing 50 and things just break down, even my cock and balls. The shrinkage must be attributable to disuse. Maybe I need testosterone shots. Maybe my nuts are just not producing like they used to. Or maybe I just need something soft to fuck. Like a woman? Maybe? Celibacy sucks. FIVE INCHES? What the fuck is that about? I have to jerk off more. But no. That won't do it. I bet penis length comes with or from suction.

The old honest to goodness blowjob. Going back to the dawn of time, when the only hand held tool was a pee pee, when women use to tend to the fires in the cave, and her husband Grog would come home with the latest kill that he risked his life to get for her and the offspring to eat, what do you think she did right after preparing the kill and the cooking? You guessed it. Inhaled prehistoric man meat. When she awoke alive the next morning because some bear didn't come in the cave and eat her? Smoke man meat. When Grog beat off three men from raping her? Smoke man meat. When Grog made a fire in the center of the cave for her to stay warm? Smoke man meat. Get the picture that I'm painting here? Playing the meat whistle was the currency of her times. To some extent, it STILL is.

Hmmmm, thinking back, to when I was married, and I knew I had a seven inch tool, I used to get my mushroom head snorted regularly by my wife. Maybe that suction is what did it. Maybe the one eyed snake expands and lengthens with her drawing on it like a fat straw. Alright women, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about! Don't act like you're shocked and appalled. The GIG is up! There is no such thing as a woman that hasn't sucked a half mile of pecker, and I'm not talking about one piston either, I'm talking about a half mile of six inch average cock apiece by the time she's Eighteen. No such thing. I'd rather believe that the Pope is Santa Claus or that Brittney Spears doesn't take it in the ass.

It's a female right of passage, just like her period or anal sex. You try to act so genteel about the entire thing, but we men know when we look in your eyes, talk to you, hang around with you that there ISN'T an orifice in your body that hasn't been drilled by a stiff man pole by the age of twenty one, ESPECIALLY your faces. Shit, that's probably the first orifice to go down the devirginizing path to begin with. Don't try to shoot a load of crap by anyone here. If I can confess about my dick size you know you can confess to regularly smoking pole. I'm talking nitty gritty on this blog. I don't pull any punches, you know that shit. I speak what's on my mind, and this week, its human sexuality, cocksucking to be exact. Probably because I'm not getting any.

But going back...then after my divorce. Still, I marvel at the fact that I used to pick up complete strangers...women that I didn't know from a hole in the wall, in bars every once in awhile, whenever I felt the need for a little companionship during the evenings. A couple of drinks, a sandwich, a soda so that she would have a little something to coat her precious tummy. Then soon she would be naked and on her knees in my apartment, and my cock would find its way deep into her piehole playing tongue depressor. No problem there. Big fucking surprise.

I used to pick up hookers in Washington Square Park, before the crackdown, and got a few mouth lovin' sessions standing in the basement stairwells of nearby brownstones on nights that I was just too tired to be cordial to women, or too broke to spend so much money on drinks and sandwiches. Whores are an inexpensive thrill, I don't care what anyone says. And yes you disgusting wogs out there, I wore a condom. It takes longer to cum when you do though, but you can cum if she's any good. And I have to say, no woman shines better pork sword than a prostitute! She's got only a few minutes to make you cum and she wastes no time in dilly dallying. She's literally got you by the balls, and she'll make you use them. I wonder how long do they make your Vienna Sausage grow if you hit them up every Friday night?

The only problem with picking up a quality whore now are the fucking cops. The dick police. What kind of job is Vice Squad anyway? If I was a cop and they told me that I had to do Vice, I would say, no fucking way. That's bullshit. Keeping two consenting adults from doing what mature adults do? Isn't there enough crime out there that we don't have to criminalize a woman for doing what comes as naturally to her as breathing, swallowing cock? Or a man too, if that's his shit. They actually go around in their patrol cars shining their lights in dark corners and stairwells of buildings. Now here's the rub, they are trying to stamp out a public nuisance, a scourge. But people are doing this out of sight of others. They take the time to find dark corners and shit, to be out of the viewing public. So then how can a little sex on the side be a PUBLIC menace?

And another thing. Whores, unfort- unately, are generally ugly and most likely using their money on some addiction which is shriveling up their bodies, possibly killing them. Now, I'm not one to get involved with what another adult does to themselves, or shoves down their mouths. That's their choice. She can either use the cash to pay her way through Graduate or Med school (which many do) or shoot up some junk in an abandoned building somewhere, but that's wholly her business and not for me to be concerned about or try to regulate through legislation, crying exploitation. The only thing that I'm thinking about is getting blown up like a happy face balloon in a birthday party. But my point is, if you see a healthy model type, standing by herself on a street corner, in a short dress and low cut blouse telling you that she's ready to gulp your cock...IT'S A COP!!! Don't try to test me on this, take my word for it. But this is not a post dealing with prostitution!!! It's a post about blowjobs.

I used to get my straw drained at pretty regular intervals, probably increasing my dong length every time I did...until I got fired. This was quickly followed by homelessness, and life on the streets. Forced celibacy. That's what they should call homelessness, La fourc celibaci. There is no one that you are going to fuck while you are on the streets. No one. I can guarantee you that. You just have to get used to it. If you have nowhere to bring pussy, you get no pussy, and reasonably, connected to pussy is a mouth party. And forget about getting a little helmet scrubbing from a skeksis woman. They are the most disgusting creatures in the world. Whew, they bring a whole new meaning to horrible, and yet they get LAID. Lil'bit, Huldah the mole rat, Abomination (who had the prettiest pair of tits you'll ever see on a monster), Coconut, Stinky, the Coat Sisters, and Scrubs, all of them have dick in their lives. I don't know how that shit is possible, but it is. They were getting cocked, and I wonder what sort of men were doing the cocking.

I shiver just to think about it. As for me, my dick stayed limp, unused and tucked between my legs like a beaten dog. There was this time though, when I was employed and living in the world with the rest of you, that I was walking up one of the narrow stairwells in Port authority, minding my own business, looking for my bus to pull in the station when POW. Up on the landing ahead of me were a couple of skeksies, their clothes dark and ratty, their dirty and gnarled shopping bags all around them. They looked as if they crawled through an exhaust pipe to get there. And lo and behold, there was a woman on her knees, head bobbing on the end of a hard meat burrito, playing semen face. The man stood, fists cocked against his back, his back arched, head thrown back. He was in Heaven. His dog head probably getting longer too!

Then I met Electra. Young, attractive, homeless. Somehow she keyed in on me, and I wooed her. We seemed made for each other, and made out in a hospital bed when I was sick from hypertension. She was a perfect little toy. This was looking good, maybe she would be the one to loosen my sex collar and allow me to use her tongue as a hockey puck with my meat stick.

Then we found out that we didn't like each other. Just like that. Before I could get her lips wrapped around my hard prong, she comes up with an argument that I couldn't deal with. An argument that tore us asunder, never to be repaired. There went that knob gobbling experience. I guess because of that; because of being so long from a decent slob job that my cock has been acting strangely, shriveling up, dying from disuse. I have no money so the search for prostitutes is remote. Unless they give out Fantastically Free Fucking Fellatio on Christmas. And I wonder where do you find a quality whore now? I know Washington Square Park has been cleaned up by the Guilianni administration, so where were the whores ran off to? Tenth Avenue?

Uggh, I just thought about lil'bit having sex. She is short, vicious like a pit bull, nasty, wiry like the Tasmanian devil, missing teeth, sporting a gut, mouthful of mispronounced words, jism, and expletives, short, buzz cut hair...uggh, she's horrible. Can you see her on her knees swigging down your leaky hose? She'd probably bite it off and swallow it. Shit, I just couldn't imagine such a thing. I mean, I couldn't even imagine her sucking the dick of some other derelict in the streets or worse yet, that of a horse's.

Well, that's the bad news. A five inch prick, no cocksucking in ages to pump my little meat Popsicle up to any usable proportions, and I'm sitting, naked in the dark, typing this post. It's after 4:00 in the morning and I'm still not sleepy. What am I to do? Have I bored you yet with cocks? Well this is a blog that will talk about everything. Distasteful, or funny, just be prepared. It comes out of my head, my life, and onto the paper it goes.

I think I'm going to write another post, or get some sleep on.

Hobobob