White Trash — Trailer Park — Super Party!

Yep! That is what we are having here this week folks. The sort of week that really makes you value your elitist anti-social book fetish.

Where to begin?

A while back I mentioned how my neighbor was trying to build a fire pit — maybe you recall, it’s not that crucial as the landlord (obviously) told her HELL NO! Well this neighbor vandalized my cars this week, and didn’t even deny it. She blamed her kids — classy right. Both of the cars that I have parked in the tiny lot she has been digging holes in pained by pink glitter nail polish. Other cars painted, you ask — NOPE. Just my perfect candy apple red BMW and my Swedish brick. It ruined the beemer. Fucking ruined it.

And she screams and she yells at all hours of the day and night, to anyone who will put up with it. Her babby daddies, her mobile phone, the postal carrier, anyone. Then she leaves a note on my door in the middle of the night accusing me of locking her out. I assume that means she got high and locked her baby inside again. Not my fault. I have been avoiding her, using the other entryway. Oh I really don’t want to meet up with her, ever. But sadly, I’m just going out on a limb here with this one, but I’m kind of under the impression that I am going to have to take her to small claims court.

Oh joy! The place where people let their inner Jerry Springer guest out to play. A place where people utter “I want my ten dollars” while spitting into a podium mike. Mmmm. Can’t wait.

But it’s not just the neighbor that makes this party so special, no there is also the 97 degree heat with 90 percent humidity — all week. I spent my rent on a couple of air conditioners. I might just take them back, pay the rent and repeat the process the next time a heat wave comes to attack me. But we had to hit four Home Depots before we found any AC left in New England. So maybe I’ll just keep them.

I miss the desert air. I long for decent tortillas. At least in Southern California when someone is digging a whole in the parking lot, painting cars with glitter nail polish, locking their baby inside, and screaming like a tweeker everyone assumes the crazy bitch is methed-out of her mind.

And I can see the first of the month coming. I’m sure my landlord would rather have cash than AC units. So, I have been sitting here in the ice cold AC wondering how I’m gonna pay my rent. Well, really I had to stick up a plastic divider so that the part of my home that gets really hot would not just heat the place up, sucking all the life and joy out of the AC. Now every time I want to go to the kitchen I have to remove my cozy little beanie, my bathrobe, my slippers and run into the sweltering foul unwashed for days in the hot sun kitchen — then dart back out, hopefully remembering whatever I went in there for. And hopefully remembering to remove my winter gear before going past the plastic. And I have been too stressed out to eat, well too stressed out and too fucking broke. I went to work once this month, then the heat came. I got sick. I fell down the stairs. I had a migraine and Lorelei snuck out while I tried to sleep it off.

I have been trying to get my office clean enough to web cam in. Thinking I’ll try this whole domme on the internet thing cause it really reinforces my natural tendency to avoid people. But I can’t figure out how to decorate. I think that I lost my ability to decorate a room sometime after I painted my mom’s kitchen jet-black with a sponge the mid 1990s. I have the inclination to make textured palm trees with animal print velour and green paint. I’m not sure it is a good idea but once I do it, undoing it will be a joke. So, yeah, why not cut and past fake fur to my walls — I mean this is a white trash trailer park super party!

Oh and cause I’m special, I got to watch a guy eat a banana out of his poop hole this week. I wish I were joking folks. Sorry if you were chowing on a potassium stick. At this point you might be throughly confused. It went something like this:

Guy on niteflirt wants to cam. We plan a time to turn them on. I ask him to have some toys. He brings two of the huge hothouse cucumbers — you know the kind they wrap in fucking plastic. The big fuckers. He takes one out and slides the whole thing into his ass. Right up, all the way, no whining no nonsense: in, all the way in. He is able to do a little hands free sphincter action for me. I’m amused. Sure he is an old squish white guy, but that takes some serious ass control. Took the whole thing up there and pushed it in and out — hands free.

He sat down and tied his boy parts up with rubber bands — the kind you use for hair, not the rubber once that snap (I love it when they snap). Then he pulled out some supermarket variety pack of paint brushes. He opened the package and jammed one of them right down his urethra. Oh yes he did. He sat there fucking his pee hole with a paint brush for a good long wile. I had him turn it around and use the bristly side. Epic!

Then he asked me if I wanted him to shove a banana in his ass. I didn’t even know he had bananas. he got out a whole bunch of them. Peeled one and slid it in before I even noticed he had removed one from the bunch. It was so fast I would have thought he was trying to hide drugs up there. Then he peeled another and — up she went — his bunghole just ate the entire banana.

He got out an eggplant and sort of teased me with it. He tried to shove the eggplant into his ass. It would not go in easily. He put the eggplant aside. Then he pushed the bananas out onto what looked like a towel on a couch. It was this sad little pile of barely yellow mush. (Do you hear Gwen Stefani in your head right now too?)

“EAT IT” I told him. He leaned in and scarfed the warm, squishy fruit.

A minute passed. He said he didn’t feel good. Asked me if he could call me back —and away he went.

Wow. I love it when I get to witness some sort of spectacle of perversion that makes you wonder about simple things in life — like abstinence only education, like ‘virgins’ who have bareback anal sex, like men who eat fruit straight from their poop shoot.

I’m really and truly amused that he called me. In a fucked up way it really cheered me up. I spent half the morning laughing.

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